


Divine

by SunflowerSpectre



Series: Divine [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV), Lucifer - Fandom, Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon is slightly manipulated, Canonical Character Death, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Esme is simply not apart of the story, Eventual Romance, F/M, Graphic violence and blood, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Manipulated Canon, Multi, Original Character(s), Other, Slow Burn, post-season four, season four spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2020-07-19 12:44:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 66,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19974289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerSpectre/pseuds/SunflowerSpectre
Summary: After spending eons despising humans and living secluded in the woods, Ariel the Archangel of Nature has a new outlook on her life after visiting her brother, Lucifer. She decides now it's time to dedicate her time helping and healing humans, so she secures a job as a nurse in Forks, Washington.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Season Four of Lucifer.  
> Takes place after Season Four of Lucifer and before/during the events of Twilight.  
> Few alterations have been made, with the events of Lucifer taking place a few years prior. Lucifer did not leave for Hell, deciding to stay with Chloe instead after her confession.  
> Angels, and by extension demons, have been made a bit more powerful to match pace with the vampires’ strengths and speed. Angels also have a more divine presence that’s noticeable.  
> In Christian lore, Ariel is the archangel of Nature, meant to protect it and the elements, and is originally supposed to punish humans for their acts against nature. This is only altered slightly.

“You don’t need to leave LA, you know. There are plenty of hospitals here that would welcome an angel like you into their staff.”

Ariel wishes he didn’t have to be so literal with his words, but her brother has always been the ‘honest’ one. It’s his greatest strength, his greatest weakness, and in most cases, his greatest annoying factor. He’s never even tried to hide what they are, something a part of her admires while the other part thinks is stupid. He is not wrong when people won’t necessarily believe them, or anyone, but she hardly thinks that people are worthy of the proof of divinity.

She stops packing one of her boxes with a sigh. She glances to her brother from the corner of her eye; he waits patiently for her response, clad in his usual business suit in the shadows of her hotel room. The lack of the presence of Amenadiel shouldn’t surprise her, but there’s a small pain in her chest nonetheless. She hasn’t seen either of them eons, and he can’t even be bothered to come say goodbye.

“I don’t need to, Luci. I _want_ to. This city reeks too much of pollution for my tastes and if I stay here too long, I’ll want to hurt my patients at the hospital instead of help them.”

Lucifer takes a seat on the bed beside her case, nodding along with her words. She doesn’t look him in the eyes, she doesn’t have to as a sense of understanding and familiarity pass between them. He may be the punisher for humans’ evils, but she’s the punisher for their crimes against nature - _literally_ in this sense. Cities have always made her sick - nature cut down and replaced with steel, _smog,_ smoke. Humans trashing everything her father had made for them. She’s stuck to the forests for eons for a good reason, someone has to protect them since these humans certainly don’t care.

She takes a deep breath. This is why she’s becoming a doctor. She’s the archangel of nature and beasts so like it or not, it’s time for her to accept that humans are her father’s creations too. Which means just like the forests she’s protected and healed, humans need healing too now. She needs to help and protect these beasts, her time in LA has helped her understand that, but there’s still a bitterness lingering in the depths of her heart. 

“I’ll call often, Luci,” Ariel continues, softer, her voice losing some of its venom. She stands more properly and faces him evenly. “Despite everything, I still missed my little brother. If I knew you were on Earth, I would have come and tried to find you sooner.”

Which is true. Lucifer has always been her favorite sibling, a kinship due to them both being punishers for their father. She’s been on Earth for a long time now, coming to it the moment she realized the humans were destroying what she’s meant to protect and guard. She’s not sure how long her little brother’s been hiding here too, but if she knew that he was on Earth, she would have seeked him out, said hello. After all, it’s not as if she _wanted_ to find him just because she sensed a new celestial around. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting to find when she came here, but she certainly didn’t expect it to be the result of Amenadiel of all angels. 

She doesn’t expect for Lucifer to say that he’s missed her, but he does give a small smile in acknowledgement and gets off the bed to pat her shoulder. She grabs his wrist and pulls him in for a tight hug. Awkwardly and hesitantly, he gives her a few pats on her back.

“Alright enough of that,” he pulls away and brushes off the dust from his shoulders, “I do expect you to ship some of those lovely drugs from the hospital to me, with you about to become some big shot doctor and all.”

“She’s not going to ship you drugs,” Amenadiel’s voice rings out.

Ariel’s eyes widen at his appearance. Amenadiel stands in the doorway of the hotel suite, his eyes softened when his gaze meets his sister’s. Linda isn’t far behind him, carrying Charlie on her hip. The small four year old smiles brightly and waves at Ariel. Her eyes soften at the child and she waves back with a crooked grin. 

“Not to mention she’d lose her doctoring license and no offense, but we need a _real_ doctor around so I don’t keep getting calls on how to treat life threatening wounds.”

Linda breathes a sigh of relief and Ariel almost laughs at the remark, remembering how Linda was the one most excited about her successfully getting her medical license. She wouldn’t put it past Lucifer to call a therapist on how to stitch up a wound. She doesn’t even bother correcting Linda, or Lucifer, that she’s not a doctor quite yet; a nurse, yes, but she still has a few years to go in schooling to become a full fledged doctor. She should do something to thank her brother for forging her papers sometime - an ID and social security isn’t exactly something that comes up when you live in the Amazon.

“You’ll have to tell me exactly why my brother was making those calls to you in the first place sometime,” Ariel comments, relaxing against the bed frame, “It makes me wonder just how much trouble you all got up to before I found you.”

“Another time, sister,” Amenadiel takes a step forward, “We will tell you _everything_ you missed.”

Ariel’s nose scrunches up, “That’s what you keep saying and the longer you wait, the more I get worried if you’ll actually survive once I leave. Honestly, Diela, how bad could it have been? I came in to find the first woman raising a bunch of demons up to get Luci to love her and a new angel baby. Nothing can possibly be worse than that.”

A few looks get passed around the room and she finds herself feeling a bit out of the loop. She doesn’t like the way that Amenadiel looks at Lucifer as if he’s the cause for trouble and steps between them to break his glare. Lucifer sticks his tongue out at Amenadiel from behind her back as she glares at Amenadiel, challenging him. Amenadiel takes a step back and sighs, mildly raising his hands in warning.

“I didn’t come here for us to argue, I came here to wish my sister goodbye and to tell her to be careful.”

Ariel relaxes at the peace offering and gives a solid nod in acknowledgement of his farewell. 

“I told Luci that I’ll call him often,” she continues, almost cautiously, “I hope that I can do the same with you, Diela.”

Amenadiel’s eyes light up, his face brightening at the offer. “Of course you can call me, Ariel, I hope that I haven’t given you any reason to think you can’t.”

She rolls her eyes at the comment, mumbling under her breath before continuing a bit louder, “Well how else am I supposed to get updates on little Charlie? I can’t disturb Linda if she’s busy with a client.”

Amenadiel’s face shifts for a moment before he spots the humorous gleam in her eyes. Lucifer, however, simply gags, “Why would anyone want any updates on that child?”

Ariel nudges him, “Drop the act Luci, we all know that you love your nephew.”

“I’ll love him a lot more when he’s old enough to join me at the club. Oh - are they even going to _have_ clubs where you’re going?”

Ariel crosses her arms against her chest, “I doubt it, it’s a little place called Forks. A bit of a way from Seattle, surrounded by forests. I don’t think they even have a big enough population to justify a _club_.”

“ _Ugh_ how boring.”

“Hopefully, it will be.”


	2. A Soft Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice receives a vision of their new neighbor and is determined to say hello, while Ariel is finding that 'modest and humble' were not in her brother's vocab when he went shopping for a house for her.

****She could’ve flown in, quite literally, but she’s always preferred her feet planted on the ground. It’s why she loves the motorcycle gifted to her from her brother. She can feel the howling wind against her, plant her feet on the earth when she stops, and is unconfined by metal and oil.

She takes the scenic route to Forks, avoiding the highways full of loud noises and the smell of smoke as much as she can. She takes her time appreciating each mountain she passes and every deer that crosses. 

Forks is just as isolated as she hoped it would be. The towering trees that hide smaller houses and buildings are a breath of fresh air that she savors. She can feel the energy around her - a grainy, earthy feeling filled with growth and positivity. It vibrates through her bones and when she breathes deeply, she realizes just how much she’s missed it. The trees’ thick trunks tell her that they’ve been undisturbed for a long time and the greenery are vibrant, full of life. 

The city may be Lucifer’s new home, but  _ this _ is going to be hers. 

_ Welcome To Forks -  _ the sign is partially hidden on the side of the road, covered with overgrown bushes, but it still takes her a cool minute before she officially reaches any civilization. When her eyes meet the first building in her path, that happiness dwindles at the reminder that, as undisturbed as most of the forest is, there are  _ people  _ here. She forces herself to breathe through it and remind herself that that passing, fleeting sensation of disappointment at the sight of people is exactly why she is here in the first place. 

Her time with Lucifer, and by extent the others, including a particular detective, has taught her many things. Aside from basic human interaction, her brother’s friends - the  _ human _ family he’s made here - showed her that there is at least hope in the dark pit of humanity. She hopes that she can expand on that feeling, nourish it and care for the side of her father’s creation that she’s neglected and punished for so long. 

She can feel people’s eyes on her as she passes through the town - she should have expected this. This isn’t a big city that is full of so many people that no one notices who comes and goes. Small towns mean a small community with few visitors and travelers. She tries her best to let the looks roll of her back as she continues through the streets. She takes notes of what’s around, specifically the sign that tells her which way the hospital is, but continues straight through the town until she eventually the streets gets smaller and she turns onto a dirt road. 

If not for Lucifer’s funds, she would have been perfectly fine building her own little home from hand. She’s done it plenty of times before - it’s a modest, but suiting way to live in the middle of the forest. Lucifer, however, was appalled by the mere suggestion and was quick to find a place to buy for her. She insisted that if he was going to do that, to at least not get anything fancy and to get something that is a bit further from town, as in the middle of the forest as he can get. The more privacy the better. 

He never showed her the pictures. She really should have asked him to. When she pulls up to the address, which at least is as secluded and private as she requested, she’s met with a house that rivals Lucifer’s own penthouse. With a groan, she pulls up and parks at the end of a long and wide paved driveway to a two story, modern architecture home. She carries her helmet under one arm - unneeded as it was, she doesn’t share her brother’s ‘openness’ and ‘honesty’ and firmly believes in upkeeping her human appearance - and already has her phone in the other as she makes her way to the door. 

She puts the phone between her shoulder and ear as she digs the key out of her pocket. 

_ “Ariel! Missed me so soon?” _

She snorts,  _ “ _ Tell me, Luci, when you insisted on picking out a house for me, what part of  _ modest _ did you not quite understand?”

_ “None of it. You deserve the best, sister, so that is precisely what I got you. You’d be surprised at how hard it was to find anything expensive, modern and private in that little area of yours. Very few new houses. I imagine most of the humans that live there never leave.” _

“No shit, Luci, it’s a small town. I’m surprised you even found something like this here.”

The inside of the home, at least, a bit more humble with minimal furniture, leaving the floor open and wide. She eyes the many plants lining the entire area, in a way that only a professional decorator could, with pleasant surprise. She’s not as pleased with the full bar in the kitchen, but the fresh herbs lining the kitchen’s window and the organic food in the fridge more than makes up for it. Not many people would realize it, but Lucifer  _ does  _ pay attention to the little things. 

_ “That’s precisely my point. There was only one other one similar to this that was available, but it was bought a few years ago before I could make my offer. Pity too, it was much larger than that one.” _

Pity isn’t the word she would use. The house is too large for her as it is, but she supposes it is more pleasant if people were to visit - people, she quickly corrects, such as her family. She could easily picture some of the more open areas being filled with Charlie’s play things and maybe she can dedicate a whole wall to Trixie’s art. 

“Trust me, Luci, this is more than big enough, how many beds?”

_ “OH! That’s the best part. Six bedrooms so it’s perfect if the detect -  _ _ Chloe  _ _ \- and I visit with the little urchin. Charlie and Linda and Amenadiel would be happy too, I suppose, but even with all of us staying there, you’d have plenty of free space for any orgies or parties. “ _

She doesn’t bother mentioning that she has no intention of either of those things, knowing it would fall to deaf ears. She quickly mutters her appreciation and ends the call, knowing that she has quite a bit of exploring to do. 

* * *

****

She’s pleased to find that each room has its own amount of plants and flowers, and that aside from basic essentials such as beds, nightstands, and dressers, a majority of the bedrooms are empty. There is one that was more clearly decorated with Trixie in mind, something that she finds endearing that Lucifer thought that they would be coming over often enough to justify it. Two of the bedrooms conjoin and she can easily see them becoming Amenadiel and Linda’s room connecting with Charlie’s, once he is older. She tries not to dwell on how easily she can see everyone living in that space and instead reminds herself that their homes are in LA; this would be only for visits. All the space that could easily be filled with her family will likely be empty a majority of the time. The realization leaves her a bit hollow.

She’s not as pleased about the largest bedroom being one that her brother very clearly decorated himself - it being a very clear sex dungeon than a proper bedroom. It still retains some amount of classiness, with at least a leather hide rug. An intricately built sex swing is off to one side while a cage hanging from the ceiling is at the other. The bed is large and has small chains hanging from its frame. The closet is full of brand new lingerie and costumes, that she’s frightened to find are in her size. There is a whole shelf of dildos and strap on in clear view on one wall. She quickly shuts the door and knows that in the future, that door is going to be very tightly under lock and key. She supposes that if Mazikeen and perhaps even Eve visits, then they’ll be happy to stay there.

The last bedroom Lucifer clearly kept for her. The large open windows overlooking the treeline, the neatly organized and placed plants, and the large, flowery bedspread all scream of her own aesthetic. There’s a satin canopy over the bed that while is a bit out of her tastes, goes well with the soft colors of the room and compliments the vibrant green color of the plants hanging around it. The whole room is in a soft, natural light with warm, pale colors that go well with the greenery. She rolls her eyes at the clothes in the closet, all in her size, but all clearly brand new with the price tags still attached and a majority being too fancy or revealing for her tastes. She makes a mental note to go shopping for her own clothes later, but wonders if it’s too heartless to toss all those new garments.

There are a couple of boxes, shipped from LA, of personal belongings in the corner - both are small. The fact that there are only two boxes and a closet full of only brand new clothes tell her that Lucifer most definitely just threw out her old clothes instead of shipping them like she asked. A quick look into the boxes tells her that at least the most important of her belongings have made it - personal pictures, including recent ones, and a few misc. Sentimental items, things she’s collected over the eons. 

She wanders back downstairs, wondering if she should head to the hospital. Her first day isn’t until tomorrow, but at least she could scope it out. However, she’s barely down the stairs when the doorbell rings.

* * *

The Cullen house is quiet. While the weekend usually means freedom, fun, or even parties for most high schoolers - they are not most high schoolers. The weekend brings silence, boredom, routine. There’s nothing that they haven’t done before and while the clouds are cloudy, there are few places for them to go or things to do. The next thunderstorm isn’t due until tomorrow, so it’s only a matter of waiting until their next game.

Emmet is one of the only ones who are genuinely enjoying the weekend, happily shouting at the screen of the TV as he plays the latest version of his favorite video game. Rosalie is not as pleased by this, but settles on the couch beside him in a huff as she does her nails. After a few choice words and fights, Emmet is careful not to nudge her, lest she get her nail polish everywhere. 

Carlisle is busy at work, Edward is the one to inform them that Carlisle is busy trying to calm an ongoing gossip about a new nurse; something that while confirmed to be true, is driving their ‘father’ up the wall due to the chaos of the other nurses’ drama around the subject. Currently, the quietest sibling settles nearby with a book. Emmet is the one to tease him lightly about the fact that ‘he’s actually joining us for once’ and ‘not running to brood in his room alone.’ The teasing stops when Edward almost leaves due to it. 

Jasper is fresh from a hunt, eyes burning yellow, as he greets his wife. She presses a quick kiss to his lips and opens her mouth to say something, but stops short as her body tenses. Alice doesn’t blink - she stares off into space, her body unmoving before she finally seems to come back to the present. She grins wildly, jumping a bit in excitement as she claps her hands. Jasper watches her with mild amusement, her excitement rolling off him like waves. Her light pushes on his shoulders as she jumps does nothing to move him.

“Someone moved into that house next door! We have a neighbor! They should be here by now! We should go say hi!”

This grabs everyone’s attention in various degrees. Edward immediately furrows his brows, worrying rising in his chest at the idea of the house - a place that’s sat empty for as long as they’ve owned this house due to it being out of many of Forks’ residents budget and Forks not being a place that people who  _ can _ afford it go to - actually being occupied. Granted, their houses are at least a mile away from each other, it’s still too close for comfort. Who knows what type of person moved in there? A hiker who may catch them hunting? A conspiracy theorist who may piece together what they are? It could threaten their existence either way.

Emmet pauses his game at her announcement, looking over the back of the couch toward her, “Neighbors? Really? Are they hot?”

Alice rambles on how she didn’t actually ‘see’ what they looked like, she just saw someone on a bike going to the house, but that it was a bit blurry and strange. 

The vision plays in her mind, allowing Edward to watch along with her. He can see what seems to be a woman, her face obscured by a helmet with long, red-blonde hair that sweeps out from the back of the helmet and down her back. However, the air around her seems disoriented, brighter than the area around her as if there’s a second source of light close to her that they can’t see. It pulses, but even as she drives up to the house, it never falters and always follows her as if she is the one causing the distortion and light. The light glares brightly when she takes off her helmet, blinding the vision completely before it ends. 

Rosalie flicks nail polish on Emmet for his comment, oblivious to Edward’s inner turmoil, causing him to shout as it spills onto his controller. As the two bicker on in the background, Edward sighs as he glances over his book toward his ‘sister.’ 

“We’re not going to go say  _ hi  _ Alice,” Edward finally speaks, his voice firm on the subject.

She pouts, “Why not?”

“Do you really want to bring us to their attention? The house isn’t too far from us, if they start to suspect something, it’d be too easy for them to spy on us. Who knows what she is or what she’s involved in for it be that blurry? She could be with the wolves for all we know.”

Emmett scoffs at that comment, muttering about how no one involved with the wolves would be on their side of the treaty line anyway. 

Alice waves off the concern, “All the more reason to check her out! Besides, it’s only polite that we go say hi, even Carlisle would agree with me. Oh! I should bring them something, but we don’t have any food here…”

She trails off, mumbling about what she could possibly take over as a welcoming gift, ignoring Edward’s constant protest and voiced worries. Jasper does his best to reach out toward Edward, hoping that he could calm him down. Yet at the sudden change of emotion, Edward glares at him before retreating his room with his book. 

* * *

Alice’s eyes sparkle as she drives up the curved driveway to the neighbor’s house. It’s not too different than the last she saw it - granted the last she saw it was during an open house when she couldn’t resist ‘just looking.’ It’s a new home, recently built, she remembers the stir it caused in town - most people not understanding  _ why _ the realtors were building such a home in Forks, but she can’t help but feel it was partially due to her coven’s own home raising the value of the area. Carlisle almost bought it as a second house in case they needed it, but someone else swooped it up quick - presumably the owner of the electric Harley Davidson motorbike. 

She recognizes the bike from her vision and a large grin stretches across her face as she gracefully hops out of her car and nearly skips all the way to the door, clutching her welcoming gift close to her chest. Considering she hasn’t had a vision of the woman reacting to the gift, she hopes that their neighbor will like it. 

She hums as she knocks on the door, swaying gently. Her family’s concerns echo in her mind, Edward not being the only one who spoke out after the others realized she was quite serious about coming to greet their neighbor. Rosalie had more than a few words to say on the subject with Emmett mirroring her words. Jasper seemed worried, but he supported her as much as he could once he realized that she was set on coming by even if he couldn’t come over with her; considering the chances that their neighbor being another vegetarian nomadic vampire is low, they all eventually agreed on Alice going by herself if she really wanted to go. Her control being one of the strongest - Carlisle leading their coven with Rosalie being a close second, though she refused to come along - and her being more ‘approachable’, her chances of pissing off the new neighbor, or killing them, is fairly low. 

Alice is quite sure that if this woman - who may not be alone, though she was the only one in the vision - was genuinely harmful than she would have had a vision about it by now. So, she waits while she hears footsteps treading toward the door. She can hear a steady, softer heartbeat on the other side of the door and it swings open, the scent of pine trees and flowers hits her. She takes in the woman’s clothing first, noting the dated bell bottoms and loose shirt that seem more suited for the 70s and hums a bit in disapproval. 

However, she tenses when she realizes bares into the woman’s strikingly yellow, and oddly familiar, eyes. It’s not the tawny or bronze eyes of her coven, but a bright unearthly yellow that are more reminiscent of a cat’s eye striking in the light, a predator staring her down. Something about it stirs within her, making her shift, but the smile on her face doesn’t falter as she stands her ground with confidence. Her first thought is that maybe they were wrong about the chances of another vampire moving here, but she can still hear the soft heartbeat of the woman. The scent of her blood is fainter, hidden in the smell of pine, but it’s there. 

_ Human. _

Unlike the vision, Alice can’t see any visible light around the woman, but something about her still glows. As if she has a presence to her that Alice just can’t deny. A gift, maybe, but if that’s the case, Alice isn’t sure what it is. 

“Can I help you?”   


The woman’s voice is smooth and pleasing, though not as melodic as their own. Alice nearly hops with excitement as she passes over the small potted plant to the woman.

“I’m Alice, my family and I live next door and I wanted to give you something as a welcoming present as our new neighbor!”

The woman’s expression softens as she examines the gift, her eyes losing that hostile gleam and becoming more welcoming as she steps aside and gestures for Alice to come in. 

“Ariel Sera,” Ariel’s footsteps are as soft and graceful as Alice’s own, “Thank you for the rudbeckia. Once the clouds clear and it gets warmer, it’ll be nice to see some butterflies around.”

The woman’s apparent knowledge of the flower isn’t too surprising as Alice looks around the inside of the home. Most, if not all, of the furniture that was there during the open house has been replaced with softer furniture that creates a more cozier atmosphere, but there are many plants strategically placed around the room, making it nearly as green inside as it outside. 

“Do you think the flower will last that long? We have quite a long way until it gets any warmer here, but I’m glad you like it! I was going to cook something, but I wasn’t sure what you would like or if you would be allergic to anything.”

Alice’s eyes continue to roam around the room. It’s a breath of fresh air, with a homey, permanent feeling to it that’s, sadly, missed from her own home. As much as she loves her coven, their house is, in a way, staged. Fake. Made to look normal and used, but lacks personal touches that come from  _ living _ in a space, or planning to, for a long time. She turns vibrantly, eager to talk more, but stops short as another vision overtakes her mind. 

_ Ariel stands in the middle of the Cullen’s living room, silent, as she leans against Carlisle’s side. She looks worried, her brows furrowed. Her eyes are hooded, tired, and seem somehow older. Carlisle looks to her with a soft gaze and his arm moves to wrap around her, clutching her hip. He presses a quick kiss to the top of her head, almost as if he’s making an unspoken promise to her, and the creases in her face relax.  _

Something about Ariel seems different in this vision - she seems older,  _ different. _ Like the other vision, there’s a light that seems to surround her, but even the light is different. Instead of being a harsh, more bright light that seems to be burning hard with a sense of wildness, this time, she’s coated with a warmer, softer light that frames around her and vibrates with a sense of  _ home. _

Alice’s grin grows, her eyes glowing with excitement; she may not know when or how, but something inside of her tells her that this is a vision that is sure to come. 


	3. Much Ado About Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice discuses Ariel's 'nonhuman-ness' to the rest of her coven while Ariel ponders over a flower.

The rudbeckia sits pleasantly with the other flowers, creating a vibrant contrast of colors. Ariel sits by it, curled in on the loveseat with one of the cozy throws, staring at the palm of her hand where a number is sprawled in curvy numbers. She didn’t even know that  _ cursive _ numbers were possible, but somehow that little pixie managed to do it.

Unsure of how she feels about it, she still puts the number in her phone under the name  _ Sunflower,  _ named after the flower Alice brought as a gift _.  _ She starts to type out a message to the number before back pedaling with a sigh, her head starting to develop a dull throb with the beginning of a headache. Her brother always pushed for her to branch out, create her own friends. She liked his friends well enough - Chloe seemed to have more common sense than most, Linda was very sensible and reasonable too. She liked the kids - though Trixie is closely approaching her teenage years, that had to count for something too, right? Isn’t that enough?

Alice seemed nice enough, if a bit upbeat and clingy. She talked as if she knew something that Ariel didn’t, which is odd, but not any odder than anyone else Ariel knew. Alice seems convinced that they would be spending more time together, a lot of it, and wrote her number on Ariel’s hand before she could protest while insisting they go shopping some time together. While Ariel found that while in LA she preferred the flea markets and thrift shopping, something - mostly the expensive and stylish clothing Alice wore - tells her that Alice would have a field day taking her to a mall. Still, Lucifer’s own message of  _ branching out, trying new things, have sex,  _ still echoed in her head. Though she quickly crosses out the option of  _ sex _ in that message. The idea of meshing bodies with anyone isn’t an idea she finds appealing -  _ sex _ being something a bit too  _ human _ for her tastes.

_ What to do, what to do,  _ rants in her mind as she thinks over the woman who visited. Alice seemed fairly young, but considering what she is, there’s no way of really knowing how old she is without asking. With perfect pale skin, those tawny eyes, and her whole demeanor, it was easy to put two and two together as to what she was. A  _ vampire. _ Not the first one she’s met, granted, but a  _ vegetarian  _ vampire who lives here with their ‘ _ family’  _ just next door, in a town full of people. She supposes there’s a first for everything, but it does quander her hopes of it being a ‘quiet’ town. If she’s learned anything, it’s that any time supernatural beings - divine, vampiric, or otherwise- spends time with people, there’s bound to be drama and chaos. 

She supposes she could move, but despite them being neighbors, she doubts she will be interacting with them often anyway. It’s not as if a coven posses any threat to her. Due to her voice, similar to Lucifer’s ability to draw out desires, her power of suggestion and command those around her (to a degree), does come in handy. A perk of being the angel of beasts she supposes, is being an alpha that’s hard to deny.

Coven or not, she’s still an angel. They can’t simply tear her apart and set her on fire as they do with their own. Unless she uses her ability, she supposes that physically, she may have some trouble keeping up with that many vampires in a fight. Though the chances of her fighting them are slim to begin with. 

She’s always quite liked the vampires, from the ones she’s met. Though she does not have much experience with ones who feed from animals, in the past, she didn’t mind them feeding off humans that strayed too much into the forest. Less humans caused less problems. Now, however, she may have more of a problem having swore an oath to protect as a nurse. But if the vampires are truly not feeding from the people, if the rest of Alice’s coven are like her…. There’s really no need to be too worried. She supposes she should keep an eye on them, her oath as a nurse dwelling in her mind, but it would be best to stay back a bit and keep her distance for now. Unlike her little brother, she would prefer not to get into their business unless she had to.

She doubts her brothers really know much, if anything, about vampires, with Amenadiel spending most of his time in heaven before and Lucifer not being the type who snoops around unless it suits him. LA did have a small population of vampires, she had found, but considering they were only feeding off people who wouldn’t be missed and they had yet to come up in any of Chloe’s cases, she shrugged them off. If it came up, it came up, if it didn’t, not quite her problem and the more human companions that her brothers’ were fond of seemed to have their hands full of supernatural beings. 

Ariel shrugs and lays down, throwing her head back.  _ A coven of vegetarian vampires as my neighbors… What are the chances?  _

* * *

Alice isn’t quiet about her vision when she gets home, radiating with excitement as it plays in her over and over in her mind. It would be hard for Edward not to see it. 

The first thing he notes is the change in the light around the woman that casts her in a more generous, softer light and allows him to really see her. Her lithe frame is narrow and reminds him of the stem of a flower. She stands almost as tall as Carlisle, who stood beside her in the vision. Strawberry blonde hair falls in slightly tangled curls around a more sharp face. Then he notes the stunningly yellow eyes and the way Carlisle comforts her with a softness he’s not seen from his ‘father’ toward anyone that’s not apart of the coven. The kiss Carlisle plants on her head only confirms it. 

Mixed emotions stir in his chest. Happiness mostly, the idea that Carlisle will find his mate. The idea that this woman will likely become a part of the coven, one of them. Her eyes only confirming it. But Alice’s visions are still subject to change, they’re not always set in stone. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but at the same time, if this is one of her visions that fails to come true, he can’t help but feel a nagging disappointment of what could’ve been. Carlisle has done so much for them, that the idea of him finding his possible mate would be beyond incredible. 

“I met the neighbor,” Alice blurts out, her voice barely containing her excitement, “Her name is Ariel and when I went over I got a vision and -“

“-and saw her with Carlisle,” Edward finishes.

“As his mate,” Alice adds, emphasizing it harshly, “He was cuddling up to her and kissing her head and she was  _ here  _ in our home,  _ apart of our coven.”  _

“Woah, what,” Emmet jumps from the couch, “So hows that happen? Does he transform her? Is she already a vampire? When will it happen?”

Rosalie huffs, not offering much of a comment but her face says it all. Edward doesn’t have to look into her thoughts to know that while the idea of a stranger in their home doesn’t please her, she’s trying her best to swallow down her doubts if it means Carlisle would be happy. A heart of ice, it seems, thaws at the idea of the person who has helped them all finding love. 

Alice, however, pauses at Emmet’s question before shrugging with a very clear ‘ _ I don’t know’  _ expression on her face as she lets out a small  _ mmmm.  _ Edward turns to her, his brows furrowing slightly. 

“What do you mean you don’t know? Her eyes in the vision -”

“- were yellow, yeah,” Alice’s voice raises a pitch, vibrating with a bit of excitement of the unknown, “But I just met her and her eyes were already yellow! They didn’t look like contacts. I thought she was one of us already, and yeah, she didn’t quite  _ smell _ human, but she had a heartbeat and I could smell the smallest hint of blood so she’s definitely not another vampire.”

Jasper puts a hand on his mate’s shoulder, eyes shining with a bit of concern. 

“What do you mean she didn’t  _ smell _ human?”

Carlisle’s entrance is silent and sudden, but he blends into the conversation with ease. A quick nod and a small prob from Edward shows that he’s caught up on the conversation, easily hearing it as he neared the house. Unlike Edward, however, Carlisle shows more excitement at the idea of their neighbor being neither human nor vampire, his curiosity piqued. His concerns, Edward can see easily in his mind, are more about this stranger becoming his mate than by them not being human. He can already see his ‘father’s’ doubts about the vision becoming true, that it may be too dangerous or too unfair toward Ariel if they were to mate, or that it may attract the Voltari’s attention.

Something hits Edward in the chest, constricting it with a small amount of pain at the idea of his ‘father’ not getting to be happy with someone. Edward has long accepted that he will likely be alone, but he knew how much Carlisle longed to have a mate, to share his happiness and his family with someone special. Unlike him, Edward thinks Carlisle deserves to be happy with someone.

“She smelled too… _ woody _ to be human,” Alice blurts, “She smelled like the forest and morning dew and pines. Almost like how hikers who spend their life up in the woods smell like, but it was somehow… stronger. More natural. Like it was just apart of her. And she didn’t smell gross like she had just been hiking. It was so overpowering that I couldn’t even smell her blood at first and even the hikers, you  _ always _ smell their blood first. But even then, it was super faint; I was only  _ really _ sure that she  _ alive _ because she had a heartbeat.”

“Interesting,” Carlisle hums in thought, his mind already racing as he tries to remember everything he’s heard from the Volturi. Nothing sticks out to him at the moment, aside from rumors of many other creatures lurking around aside from vampires and werewolves. He always hoped there is truth to the rumors, a longing to investigate and study something new. He thinks he has a book tucked away in his study - more notes than anything about things that the Volturi have tried to inspect. 

“But she still had a heartbeat,” Carlisle presses and at Alice’s nod, he frowns. “As long as she has a heartbeat, she is still alive, faint as it is. There’s a higher possibility that she may simply be a human with a gift than another, unknown species.”

“But her eyes were  _ yellow, _ ” Alice insists, “ _ Bright yellow. _ More so than ours!”

“Contacts are pretty popular these days,” Emmett tosses the comment up with a shrug, causing Alice to huff with a pout. 

“You didn’t see her like I did!”

The two start to bicker back and forth, with Alice occasionally trying to drag Edward into it, insisting that he  _ saw her too  _ due to him pressing into her memories and into her vision. Smart as he is, Edward steps away and out of the conversation as best as he can. Carlisle can feel the headache beginning to form as the realization that human or not, it doesn’t change the fact what Alice saw in her vision which brings a very new set of issues to the table.

“Emmett, Alice,” Carlisle’s voice cuts through their ‘not quite yelling but still sort of yelling’ match with grace, “That’s enough bickering. Alice’s visions are always subject to change and we don’t know enough about our new neighbor to make any type of assumptions right now. So for now, we take things one step at a time and handle anything that will happen along the way.”

“So continue as normal until the new neighbor either falls in love with you, tries to kill us, or just ignores us,” Edward summarizes. Carlisle gives him a slightly tired, and a bit hurtful, nod in return, not quite agreeing with his wording, but not denying it either.

“For now, yes,” Carlisle clasps his hands together smoothly, trying to regain control of the situation, “There’s not much else we can do, I’m afraid.”


	4. Sincerity Between Equals

**CHAPTER THREE**

**SINCERITY BETWEEN EQUALS**

Ariel’s first day at the hospital is as uneventful as she expected it to be, allowing her to fall into a smooth rhythm. The nurses, while they’re nice enough, smile to her face and whisper behind her back and she’s not oblivious to the gazes she draws her way. She finds the small talk that falls between the silences in the halls annoying, and unnecessary, causing an itchy sensation to grow under her skin as a restless pace forms. 

She finds herself wandering toward the windows, craving to see glimpses of sunlight through broken clouds to no avail. The large front windows of the office let her see patches of wet, dirty green earth that offers little comfort and she finds herself a little more disappointed each time she finds a closed window; bad weather and sick patients hardly go together and she tries to reason away her disappointment with the common sense drilled into her at school. Unable to be outside, she should at least be doing something else production within the hospital, but as she glances at the small amount of staff and an even smaller amount of patients, there would hardly be anything to do as it is. 

She wanted this, she knows this, and she likes this - the windows, being so close to such a vast forest, and the smell of wet pine. Sometime during her walk, she begins to wonder when exactly the last time she interacted with this many people on her own - before she found Lucifer. Sometime during the early 1900s, maybe. She struggles to remember the exact year, but remembers the village deep in the forest with muddy huts, large bonfires, friendly smiles with a prayer spoken every kill and every step taken with care. Nothing like the blaring white paint and venomous, jealous whispers that seem like echoes down empty halls. 

“Lunch break in thirty,” Brett comments, leading her through a hall, “It’s a slow day so if we’re lucky, we’ll have a full half hour before getting back on our feet. Both doctors are in today, so you’re in luck. After the break, we may catch them in between patients. Do you remember where the cafeteria is?”

Brett sighs when he sees Ariel’s glazed eyes settled back into reality as she gives an affirmative nod. Thankful that she’s at least smart as she is pretty, he continues on with showing the hospital. It’s not completely protocol, being more casual than it is informative, but with few patients coming in, there’s time to spare.

Despite the casual pace that Brett leads her through the hospital, careful to explain each aspect of it to her, Ariel feels the pace is too slow for her liking and the tone of his condescending voice eventually blurs his words all together as she tunes most of it out. Far from stupid, she’s quick to figure out the schedule and counts the seconds until she’s let go to wander during break - promptly ignoring Brett’s ‘instructions’ of how the cafeteria is the other way.

* * *

She goes to the cafeteria eventually, after scoping out the hospital for herself. She grabs one of the apples available and is fixing her tea when she becomes more apparent of everyone’s stares. She can feel their eyes making holes in her back and an odd sense of self-consciousness builds in her chest. She takes a deep breath, breathing out through her nose and rolls her shoulders to ease the building tension. 

When she turns, she’s not surprised to see many of them turning away from her - a few sheepish at being caught looking. One of the men still leers at her, but for the most part, she’s greeted with either shy friendly smiles or a cold shoulder. She glances toward the window and spots the many empty chairs and tables outside and wastes no time in deciding exactly where she is going to spend her break. 

She wonders how Lucifer does it. His friendly, if a bit sexual, charm gets him far and his confidence never wavers around humans. He acts like he belongs with them - he even has a human partner and stepchild now. Never in her entire existence would she ever see her little brother, especially Lucifer, with a real, solid life partner _.  _ A  _ human _ one at that. 

But even her big brother, Amenadiel, can do this whole existing with humans pretty well. Well enough to get him a wife and child too despite his occasional awkwardness at not knowing how humans socialize at times, he adjusts and adapts. He’s  _ friendly. _ Charming. He knows how to make humans smile.

She wonders if despite what they act like, if they get that heaviness from being around humans. If they ever feel that uneasiness, discomfort, that difference between _us_ _and them._ That as much as they want to try to be - _and she wants to, she wants to be better, she wants this -_ that they aren’t _human_. That there is always going to be that gap between humans and angels that is just so _hard_ to get rid of. 

* * *

Carlisle spots her quickly, he may not have been able to see Alice’s memories or vision like Edward, but bright yellow eyes framing a new face cannot be missed as she glances at him through the cafeteria window. It’s pure luck, not quite wanting to believe that there’s a deeper, higher factor at work, that he manages to catch his break at the same time as her; while normally, he would spend this time in his office, with a new nurse gracing their staff, he wanted to set a good impression. It would be pure chance that the new nurse would also be the new neighbor that Alice is so fond of. 

Caught off guard and only debating for a minute if he should introduce himself, he is quick to recover with a decision as he makes his way outside with a half empty glass of water; it was never filled to the brim, but does help him feel a bit more secure in maintaining a more human image with his staff. The whispers spread behind him as he walks away like wildfire and he knows in his gut that this is exactly how rumors start, but his curiosity of wanting to meet this nurse - this  _ new neighbor -  _ himself weighs heavily on him as brisk, cold air hits his face. 

He keeps an eye on the skyline before he takes a step through the door, making sure that there’s not any break of sunlight through the clouds. But it’s not long before he finds himself walking without thinking toward one of the outdoor tables, making a very clear line toward the sole other person outside. 

He’s careful to note as much as he can, like the way her long legs keep the end of her scrubs from meeting her ankles with the top seeming a size too big, the seam a bit off at her shoulders, but it could be due to the small frame of her shoulders. Her face seems sunkissed, with her cheeks and nose being speckled with dark freckles that only come from too much time in the sun. He wonders just where she came from that was so sunny and if she misses it in this cloudy town. Her hair seems shiny despite the lack of sun, healthy and full as it cascades down to the middle of her back. He can smell the essential oils of her shampoo from where he stands, and the strong scent of pine and fresh wood that’s stronger than the smell of her blood and covers the faint beating of her heart.  _ Beautiful,  _ he realizes, not being able to deny it, yet still not quite fully acknowledging what it can mean.

She doesn’t seem to acknowledge him approaching her, more focused on what seems to be a warm tea in the thermos in her hands and a half eaten apple on the table. She takes a few sips and he makes a note that human, or not, she at least appears to eat - or tolerates food better than his coven. 

“Dr. Carlisle Cullen.”

His introduction, as smooth and charming as it is, breaks the silence that occupied her. He takes a seat beside her, uninvited, but not entirely unwelcome. Closer, Carlisle can see how her eyes lack the tawny swirls of his coven, seemingly more like a curious wild cat, looking at him with a raised brow. He doesn’t miss the misty look to her eyes, as if she was close to tears but swallowed them down. 

“Ariel Sera,” her voice is even, making her hard to read as she continues with a thoughtful hum. Small towns mean the name  _ Cullen  _ isn’t tossed around lightly and it’s very clear that she’s right in believing him to be apart of the same coven as Alice. A deep respect forms in her chest, grasping to a degree, the amount of control that would be needed for a vampiric doctor. His yellow eyes tell her that the hospital isn’t a ruse for human blood. A vampiric doctor, however, while surprisingly, she supposes is as unbelievable as the devil being a police consultant. 

“I think I had the pleasure of meeting your  _ daughter,  _ Alice.”

Carlisle risks a smile as he extends an apology, making her laugh as she sets down her tea. 

“She’s a good kid, Dr. Cullen, no need to apologize. I’m sure the rest of your children are just as pleasant if they’re even half as polite.”

  
There’s something about the way she says  _ polite _ that tells him she means something more. Similar to the small emphasis, and hesitation, on the word  _ daughter.  _ But the sincerity in her voice makes him inclined to believe that the choice of words is nervous, careful treading with a new boss than something deeper. 


	5. Sunshine and Pigeon Feathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rare sunny day leaves both the Cullens and Ariel taking the day off

Ariel wakes up just before the sun breaks. It’s a morning routine that brings her comfort, being able to sit down on the porch with a warm cup of tea and watch the sun break above the horizon on one of the few clear days that’s blessed the town. She always sits out there, every morning, rain or cold, but there is just something  _ really special _ when she can actually  _ see  _ the sun and feel its warmth beginning to wake up the wet ground. She breathes in the fresh air and there’s a sense of melancholy that washes over her.

  
The weather forecast is great today - sunny all day. A high of 75, maybe up to 80, which will be very warm for some of the locals, she’s sure, but she relishes in the heat. She digs out her cell phone from the pocket of her robe, despite being only three weeks into her job, she doesn’t hesitate to call in for a day off. Brett, who has the displeasure of being her supervisor, isn’t thrilled especially since Dr. Cullen has already called out for the day, but she insists that one less doctor meant less patients. That they’d be fine for one day without her. He begrudgingly accepts her call off after muttering about it being too early for this shit.

She makes no hurry to go back inside, perfectly content to watch the shadows fade away with the morning light as colors swirl in the open sky. She spots a sparkle and movement far off in the distance, but ignores it. If one of the Cullens want to come to her to visit, they will, but with the sun just dawning, she doubts that she will be seeing any of them until the clouds return. She’s almost glad that Dr. Cullen was smart enough to call in. 

If that’s  _ not _ the Cullens that she spotted, then she’ll know soon enough if a body turns up or if she spots any smoke from fires. She doesn’t know what the Cullens do should another vampire turn up in their territory, but in her experiences, trespassers are rarely welcome. Dr. Cullen seems smart - he has to be if his coven have been around humans for so long and to be  _ doctor _ vampire, she doubts that he would let anything threaten his coven’s presence in Forks. If too many bodies turn up, she knows the unwanted attention it can bring and if she’s being honest, the idea of police swarming  _ her _ woods doesn’t sit well with her. 

She heads back in when the sun finally hits her face, soaking it in before moving her indoor plants out to both the back and front porch so that they could enjoy the fresh sun. She can feel the way the leaves just perk up with the attention and it makes her heart smile. Ariel throws open her curtains to let the sunshine beat into the bedroom and is more than thrilled at the fresh air that swoops in through the open windows. It’s a rare, sunny day in Forks and she is going to milk it for all its worth.

* * *

_ This isn’t what I had in mind for today.  _ Ariel sighs deeply, her head throbbing lightly, knowing exactly who she can blame for this mess. When Lucifer texted her that her package is at the post office, she could have flown over to LA herself just to strangle him. Chloe insisted on it, he had said, but she definitely has her doubts on that. She didn’t like how vague he was about what he apparently sent her either.

She supposes it can’t be avoided, she was bound to actually venture through town at some point, but she would rather enjoy the sunshine deep in the woods, laying on soft grass. 

With the sun being as warm as it is today, she bets that spring isn’t as far away as some of the others would think. She thinks of the rudbeckia that’s blooming in the window of her bedroom; if she moves it from its pot to the soil soon, she could start growing a field of them among other wildflowers around her house. Maybe add some pansies. If she mulches the pansies come early winter of the year, then she’d have a strong, colorful field of the coneflowers and pansies come next year.

With her skin so attuned to the weather, feeling it in her bones after living in the wild for so long, she doubts that there will be any more last-minute freezes. 

“Excuse me, miss -”

Ariel pauses, coming back to the small, older woman in front of her. She got so caught up thinking about the sunny weather that she almost forgot that at the moment, she’s stuck inside a crammed post office that’s decorated with many of the knick-knacks that you’d expect from at a grandmother’s. A few oddly colored feathers decorated the ground - some that definitely didn’t belong to her - and she wonders if the post office is having an issue with pigeons coming in. Come spring, she could imagine that a few maybe not so smart pigeons would seek nests in odd places.

“Yes,” Ariel gives a soft smile, her eyes softening. The older woman, who is absolutely  _ small _ compared to Ariel’s towering frame, returns the smile. “My brother insisted on sending me a package that I’d have to come up here to get in person. It should be under Ariel Sera.”

“Ah yes,” the woman’s eyes brightened and she shuffled through some papers in front of her. Ariel vaguely wonders if the old post office hasn’t switched to digital, or if the papers are just for show. “We saw your package this morning - oddest thing, none of us remember anyone dropping it off, but it’s definitely a memorable package. It was signed by a -”

She squints at something scribbled on a post-it-note before glancing up at Ariel with a raised brow, “-Mr.  _ Lucifer Morningstar?” _

Ariel doesn’t dispute the name. When it becomes clear that she’s not going to offer an explanation for it either, the woman continues with a bit of a huff.

“Give me about ten minutes. It’ll take me a minute to figure out how to bring it up.”

She almost offers her help, but the woman waves her off before she can, insisting that she can  _ and will _ do it herself and that’s old, not  _ dead.  _ At a loss, Ariel sits in the post office a bit impatiently, wanting to go back outside, but knowing that she’s too curious about whatever her brother sent her to just ignore this entire mess. Not even a minute after the woman disappears through a door and into the back area, the door chimes as someone comes in.

Ariel raises her brow at the disheveled man that comes in through the door. He looks tired, is the first thing she notices, with his hooded, deeply creased eyes and a thermos of what looks (or rather smells) like coffee. He has a dark shadow along his jawline and judging by the badge and uniform, she has no doubts that this must be the town’s local sheriff. Something about it is a bit jarring, maybe from her being too used to the large and modern police stations in LA and Chloe’s well dressed appearance. 

It takes him a moment, but when he spots her, his eyes go a bit wide as his brows furrowed in confusion. He holds her eye contact a bit too long, the vibrant shade reminding him of a certain doctor. He can’t help but think, just for a moment, if Carlisle had brought in another kid and he hadn’t heard about it yet. But she looks too  _ adult _ to be one of his - she looks about the same age as Carlisle, actually.  _ Or the same age he looks, that good looking son of a bitch,  _ Charlie thinks with a bit of fleeting amusement, knowing that Carlisle looks younger than his age and that half the men in town - Charlie included - would kill to still look so young in their thirties.

But the girl -  _ woman - _ doesn’t seem to be one of Carlisle’s. Charlie would have recognized her if she was. Looks about twenty-five at the most with a maturity in her eyes that a lot of adults lack. Pretty too, he notes, though not his type. Something about her reminds him almost of Renee - the hair, maybe? Or maybe it was her look of disinterest

He was never one for small talk - can never seem to know what to say. He finds himself at a loss for words before he seems to finally settle on one question at a time.

“Uh, where’s Ida?” 

“She went into the back to get my package,” Ariel explains simply before sighing and taking a step toward him, her hand reaching out for a friendly handshake. “Ariel Sera. I’m the new nurse at the hospital.”

He shuffles, adjusting the grip on his thermos before accepting the handshake, “Charlie Swan. Sheriff… Nurse? I think Carlisle said something about someone new coming in… But you don’t really look -”

She raises a brow in question and however he was going to end that sentence is lost to the world as he decides that it’s best to stop while he’s ahead, a light flush on his cheeks as he gives a flustered smile. She returns the smile, if a bit hesitant. 

“What I mean to say,” Charlie starts, “- is that I didn’t expect you to look so young. There’s not a lot of fresh faces around here and most people who decide to head this way are a bit of the older variety.”

The smile comes a bit easier, despite the uncomfortable ball building in her chest at the casual, small talk forming between them.  _ Sheriff.  _ She reminds herself. Small town or not, he had to have earned that position. He’s a cop and from what it seems, he’s likely a good cop. Or at least a good person. Like Chloe - _ and Dan, _ she begrudgingly adds.

“Then I’ll take it as a compliment then… I suppose you must know Dr. Cullen then?”

He knows Dr. Cullen - it’s a small town, she supposes everyone must know him or come to the hospital and get to see him eventually. But Charlie didn’t call him _ Dr. Cullen.  _ He called him  _ Carlisle.  _ The idea of him becoming friends with the sheriff is amusing - and familiar. 

Charlie loses the tension building in his shoulders, his smile reaching his eyes, “Yeah, that’s Carlisle. Good guy. Good friend. Lotta kids for just one guy to look over, I don’t know how he handles a house full of so many teenagers. My ex-wife and I could barely take care of the one kid.”

He laughs, but he doesn’t fool her. Despite his words, she can see the sadness in his eyes at the mention of his family and a part of her heart goes out to him. It sounds like he doesn’t have much family here - if his ex-wife and kid are here, she doubts that he gets to see them from the tension in his voice at the mention of his ex-wife. He sounds lonely, but has a lot of fondness for Carlisle. She can almost see why Carlisle -  _ Dr.Cullen -  _ would befriend him. As a doctor, she imagines that like everyone that comes into the hospital, there’s that need to help him and from the looks of it, Charlie can use the help.

There’s a loud squawk that cuts their conversation off and Ariel furrows her brows at how loud the scratching, squawk is. She thought, judging by the pigeon feathers, that some of the birds may have come in, but did they really become that big of a problem in the back? She is about to jump over the counter to find for herself when the door to the back is thrust open and the woman comes through carrying the source of the noise - and the feathers.

_ Birds,  _ Ariel realizes exactly what her supposed package from her brother is.  _ Of course he did, that idiot.  _ While she is a bit surprised, it’s nothing to the surprise of the sheriff nor the amusement of Ida. Charlie watches in wonderment as the container is handed over, Ida’s laughter filling the small office. The loud squawking of the birds calm down when they reach Ariel, who takes it carefully and with love. She whispers a few comforting words and the birds quiet down in a moment. She’s not sure if it’s the strength of her power of suggestion or the timid, easy minds of the birds that make the pigeons listen so easily. 

She can’t help the bit of heavenly energy that pours out of her, her heart swelling at the sight of the birds. Birds have always been one of her favorites of her father’s creation. He made them so simple, but intelligent - they always know where they need to be and when, but always have this sense of freedom. She used to love flying through the wilder areas of the world with the birds, integrating with the flock always came so naturally. She didn’t get a say in a lot of her father’s works, Amenadiel always took the lead on those types of decisions. But her dad did listen to her about one thing - the idea of flying little things.  _ Birds. _

“Ha! I told you that we would’ve remembered a package like this.” Ida comments, a grin lighting up her face, “Mr. Moringstar - your brother, you said? Left a note with the package.”

Ariel takes a small card from the woman, reading the cursive letters printed perfectly on the pristine paper.

_ Didn’t want you to get lonely _

  * _Lucy_



  
Ariel smiles at the comment, knowing in her heart that she can’t get too upset at the propto gift. She shoves the note in her back pocket, a part of her wanting to keep it as proof that her brother cares. If anything, it’s something to tease him about later. Ariel lets both the woman, and the sheriff, get a closer look at the birds through the open-wire lid at the front of the container. 

The closer he gets to her - and the birds - the more it all feels so surreal. A moment of fleeting happiness, warmth. The energy of the room just feels lighter than usual, for reasons he can’t fathom, everything looks a bit brighter. Despite the bizarre surreal of the situation, Charlie can’t help but appreciate the vibrant coloring of the feathers.

“I think those are going to the prettiest pigeons in town,” Charlie comments lightly, “The tractor supply is just around the bend and they’ve got a lot of bird feed. Don’t know about a cage though. You’ll probably have to order one.”

“They’re archangel pigeons,” Ariel’s voice is soft, her eyes lighting up at the familiar golden hues of the pigeon’s feathers, “Not bred for the wild, I’m afraid, poor things have had it the wild instincts bred out of them. I’ll figure out what I’ll do, thank you Charlie.”

Charlie flushes at the bright grin she flashes him, a warmth forming in his chest, leaving him a bit confused as she leaves the post office in a bit of a happy hurry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so Ariel has hit the town and met Charlie. To be clear, Charlie felt the happiness and warmth so overwhelming because as an angel, she was giving off so much 'heavenly energy' due to being so thrilled to have the birds. Usually this is something that she - and the others - keep under control. I like to think that this heavenly energy is what makes all of them so charming and more likely to be trusted - like what we see with Lucifer whenever he meets literally anyone (even before he uses his powers to get the truth out of them) and even Amenadiel (like when he meets Linda).


	6. Lonely Copper Wings

Ariel preens over the two archangel pigeons, wasting no time to get the appropriate things for them. Despite getting bird seed, her fridge is full from getting fresh berries, fruit and various veggies to gradually add to their diet. The lack of bird cages at the store didn’t phase her, it just encouraged her decision to let the birds freely roam about the house with strict instructions not to enter the kitchen. The two, Copper and Penny she decides, are happy to flutter about the foliage within the house and she leaves the windows open for them to wander about outside if they wanted. She doesn’t worry about them flying away, knowing that her voice will encourage them to return to her so she can look after them due to their lack of instincts in the wild. 

_ Thanks for caring, Lucy,  _ she sends the text to her brother with a smile as she settles down outside to enjoy the fleeting moments of sunshine that’s left in the day. Copper and Penny are perched on her shoulders with no intention to remove themselves anytime soon. She absently goes to pet under their chins as she sits down with a cup of tea on her back porch. The presence of their weights on her shoulders is comforting, familiar, and eases the weight in her chest.  _ Family, _ Ariel realizes. While she’ll always prefer an animal over a person, she can’t remember the last time she’s had one actually live with her. She always had such an open door policy with the wildlife, being apart of it herself for a good portion of her existence on earth. 

Many animals have come and gone, and she was -  _ is -  _ content with that. But the idea of having a forever presence of the two birds in her home is a welcomed, new sensation of comfort. She’ll make sure their time on earth is spent being spoiled, content and happy. Come the time when she will have to bury them, she’ll fly their souls up herself - a somewhat sad part of life. Everything goes eventually, some just stay a little while longer than others. Humans and animals alike.

Looking out toward the setting sun, she can see familiar sparkles running through the bushes - too fast to be caught by a human eye, but she can feel the way that the forest parts for them. She counts six of them - one of them has to be Dr. Cullen, she realizes, the rest likely being his coven.  _ A decent size coven, perfect to pass off as a somewhat large family, but not large enough to draw unwanted attention from people or otherwise.  _ She feel curious eyes gazing at her through the treeline, but she’s not sure which one of them is watching her.

It doesn’t bother her, not really, she’s tempted to wave a hello. Maybe mess with them a little bit - a habit that she learned from her little brother in LA, watching the way he played jokes on people is entertaining despite the fact that she rarely joined in on any. 

A melancholic peace settles over her as she continues to just watch the horizon line as the sky begins to darken.  _ Animals and humans,  _ she thinks,  _ all have their time, but angels? Demons?  _ She pauses, a small, if sad smile on the corners of her lips as the birds coo in an effort to comfort her.  _ Vampires? _

It’s a curse, she realizes, for all of them to live so long.  _ A curse and a blessing,  _ she corrects herself, with a bit of a thoughtful hum, her fingers rubbing against the soft, golden feathers of Copper. She supposes it’s a blessing to be with your family for so, it makes her almost envious of the coven to have that tight-knit connection with each other, to always be together. Even when she was back home -  _ really home, far beyond the clouds - _ her family was just  _ stuck together for eternity. Trapped. Contained.  _

She only ever bonded with Mom and Lucifer while the others just were simply  _ just kinda there.  _ Uriel came close, but Lucifer’s teasing and taunting drove Uriel away from her. Uriel was so little then - so young and emotional. Always thought of things as black and white, never understood the gray area. He didn’t understand why she loved Lucifer if she loved him, since Lucifer was the one teasing him. Because she couldn’t choose a side, a choice was made for her. She didn’t see him again after she left home for good the second time, after Lucifer was kicked out. She wishes that he knows that she loved him.

She got along well enough with Remiel, she supposes, though she didn’t enjoy the way Ramiel always pushed things too far - always had to have the last laugh, the best kill. Her sister didn’t know how to be content, to take only what you need, not what you want. Amenadiel was okay-enough, but their fondness for their father’s creations were too different and like the big brother he was, he was too suffocating.

But  _ Lucy?  _ He understood. He felt that crawl under her skin like she did, the need to fly beyond the gates, to explore. He understood wanting to do  _ something _ , something more. He threw a fit when Dad named her the protector of this new nature - the protector of his plants, his new creature. Lucifer wasn’t the only one to be mad about that, thinking to the way Amendial’s hovering had lessened back then. She simply left shortly afterward, choosing to harbor the plants of the earth like they were children. She simply went around the gates, while Lucifer decided that he wanted to break them down entirely. She came back just to scream at her father. She screamed at Dad for days. Mom held her in her arms and they cried until all of a sudden, Ariel looked up and the next thing she knew, there was no one to cry with her. So she left to what  _ did _ comfort her.  _ Earth. Soil. Toes planted in wet soil on solid ground. _

It must be nice for the vampires. Dr. Cullen is a nice man - from the weeks she’s been there, he’s been nothing but patient and kind to everyone, always wanting to do everything he can to make sure no one suffers. He would make a good leader for a coven - collected, calm, having the best interest of his family at heart she imagines. She doesn’t know the others, but she hopes that Alice is keeping them on their toes. A real family - not created to become one, but stumbled upon to form one. An imperfect creation that’s not forced to be together like her family was. 

She hums, focusing on the comfort of the soft feathers of Copper and when Penny pushes her head through her palm, she obliges and gives them both more equal attention. She knows what will happen when the pigeons die - they will, such such, short delicate life spans. They would live their lives simply, freely, and happily until they ascended to go back home. In Copper and Penny’s case, she thinks she may fly them up there herself, take a whole day off to make sure they settle in with the other birds. They will, she knows, but it’s the thought that counts. 

She doesn’t know what happens if she dies. She supposes that it would just be the end of her existence entirely. She would just simply cease to exist. She isn’t even sure if there are ways for her to die outside of one of the blades made from Heaven or Hell. Nothing mortal, she knows. If there were a mortal way for her to die, she thinks she would’ve stumbled upon it already.

Vampires, she imagines that they would be judged the way that humans are. They were human once. She doesn’t know how the first came into existence - if it was one of her father’s creations, one of her siblings, or something else entirely. She was already on Earth when she found out about them, she didn’t get to watch them come to existence the way that her family did. But the Cullens are proof that vampires do have a choice - whether to become human eaters or not. She remembers how blood thirsty newborns are - so filled with that bloodlust for their first victim that even she, with her voice to command, can’t always get a hold of just  _ one _ of them. She imagines that the choice that the Cullens made - the one Dr. Cullen makes each day a patient comes in with so much as a papercut, it must be very difficult. 

She tsk’s at the birds and ushers them onto her shoulders as she wanders back inside. Potted plants that have been moved back in greet her. Walls filled with foliage, green, and  _ so much life.  _ Yet, she couldn’t help that easing sense of  _ loneliness. _


	7. Stalker(s)

“Is that her?”

Emmett doesn’t even lower his voice - stating it at a dangerous volume. The moment that Emmett asks the question, Rosalie takes it upon herself to nudge him hard in the ribs with her elbow. If not for him being the biggest of them, it may have sent him flying back, instead he hardly even sways as Rosalie whispers at him harshly that he better stay quiet or she won’t have sex with him tonight. The threat makes Edward gag, but it at least works as Emmett makes a zipper motion across his lips with a cheeky grin.

Despite the fact that Rosalie makes an offhand whispered comment about Emmett asking such a stupid question, Carlisle still nods as a way to confirm what they all already figured. 

The woman sitting on the porch of their neighboring house is Ariel Sera. The woman from Alice’s vision - the new nurse working with Carlisle. Carlisle had to admit that he didn’t expect her to take the sunny day off as well - and some part of him had thought maybe she was just another vampire, a new hybrid or breed - but when they left in the morning, he had spotted her setting out plants unbothered and unaffected by the dawning sun. She had looked peaceful in the morning, happy, and content. He was the only one to stay behind enough to really see her when they left, but on their return trip home, she had garnered everyone’s curious attention for the new neighbor. Alice’s vision certainly warranted some curiosity over the woman. 

She sits on her porch, watching the sun dip down with two odd pigeons situated on her shoulders -  _ archangel pigeons,  _ he realizes, having some vague memories of certain aristocats having them back in the day. Particular that he didn’t see them in the morning - maybe they had been situated somewhere in the house. He wonders if she makes a habit of sitting on her porch like this every morning and each night. She doesn’t look much different than she did this morning or when he has seen her at work, but he has to admit that she looks more content and that her flowing nightgown suits her.

“She’s kinda pretty, huh,” Emmett nudges Rosalie, but closes his mouth again when she growls at him, taking in the newcomer - the one who Alice still insists will become part of their coven eventually.

Personally, she doesn’t really see what the big deal is. The woman is pretty, she supposes, better looking than most. Yellow eyes that would at least match their coven’s enough to not warrant too much attention from any passing nomadic vampires - if they’re lucky, the volturi wouldn’t notice either. But she’s a bit spinly and has marks on her skin that come from being under a beating sun - tanned with freckles and sun spots. It reminds her more of a labor worker than nobility. She turns her head away with a minor huff, arms crossed tightly against her chest as she wonders when they can just head home already instead of hiding out in the treeline like some borderline stalkers.

Edward glances at her, raising his brow, but she makes a face at him with a huff in response.

“She looks sad, don’t you think,” Alice notes with a frown and Jasper clasps her shoulder as a silent comment of comfort. 

“She feels lonely,” Jasper comments evenly. 

Carlisle flinches, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by his coven who eye him curiously. But all he can think about is, despite a few offhand comments about her family (that weren’t directly positive), he doesn’t know much about her family - or her, honestly. Whether she is human or otherwise, he can’t imagine just moving to a new town by themselves, staying in that big of a house alone. Just the idea of being without his coven makes his heart ache.

Edward, however, has turned his gaze to Ariel with furrowed brows, a small frown forming on his face. Carlisle notices the look with concern, but starts to move the coven back home before they overstay their welcome and get spotted. 

It takes a moment, though as soon as they’ve settled in at the safety of their own house, Edward doesn’t waste a second to pull Carlisle over to the side.

“I couldn’t get a read from her,” Edward hisses. Despite his quiet tone and the illusion of privacy that he has with Carlisle, he knows that his ‘siblings’ can hear him easily. The important thing, however, is that now that they are home, there’s no risk of Ariel overhearing them. “Every time I tried, it was like her mind had too much going on for me to actually get anything from her before being pushed out.”

It’s the best way that he can describe it. There are no words for what it was like trying to read her mind other than that it was too advanced for him to follow.

“Is it an ability,” Carlisle presses gently. The idea of Edward not being able to get a ready from her is concerning, with Edward being one of their ‘ace in the holes’ so to say. Oddly fascinating, but continuing that train of the thought warrants a small glare from Edward.

“I don’t know,” Edward admits, “If it is, then I don’t know what type of gift it is. But it does increase the chance of her not being human.”

The unspoken issue is there, laced under his words - if this increases the chance of her not being human, it increases the chance of her being a risk to the coven. Despite knowing this, Carlisle feels the itch of knowledge wanting to know more about her - if she is a gifted human and if not, he can’t help but want to know everything about what she is. The idea of Alice’s vision is a far, out of reach idea in his mind. 

“-It only increases the chance of my vision coming true,” Alice’s voice rings throughout the room, the laughter clear in her tone, but Edward has to disagree.

“Just be careful, Carlisle,” Edward finally admits with a sigh.

“I admit that I’m curious,” Carlisle agrees, “The idea of something more being out there is  _ thrilling -  _ but I would never do anything rash that risks the coven, I hope that you all know that very well.”

They do, but Edward also knows more - he can read it all in Carlisle’s mind, that burning thirst for figuring out the mystery, for learning something new, the idea of discovering a new species. He has to dig deeper to see that the idea of having her as a mate is an afterthought and draws what comfort he can from it.

* * *

“A little birdy told me that you have some pet birds now.”

  
Ariel pauses in her routine, stopping in the hall with a clipboard in her hand as she glances toward Carlisle. He’s flipping through notes and hardly sparing her a glance. As it is, his comment is casual and offhand. She wonders if Charlie told him about the birds or if he happened to see them when his coven passed by her property. She’s not stupid, she noticed the way that they lingered in the treeline before returning home. She knows that she doesn’t smell as human as she should, that she’s a new fascinating toy in a little town that is drawn to get some attention. She just hates the idea of whatever drama it could bring if they keep showing an interest in her; she lost count of how many times Alice has sent her text messages, usually deeply coded with emojis. As if they’re old friends or have known each other for eternity.

She has to admit that she’s not fully sure what to think of Alice’s - and by extension, Carlisle’s - attention. It could bring a lot of trouble - or, a fleeting thought passes of the idea of good it could bring. From what she can see, Carlisle is a good man (vampire), an even better doctor. Alice has been nothing but pleasant, friendly. She can only assume that the rest of the coven isn’t much different. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if she become - acquaintances - with them. She swallows thickly, wondering how long her brother considered Chloe an ‘acquaintance.’

“Archangel pigeons,” the explanation passes from her naturally as she pauses, looking over the notes in his hands briefly before passing him a few papers from her clipboard to add to it, “-Beautiful birds, smarter than most people think. They’re only bred to be pets nowadays so they can’t survive in the wild. My younger brother sent them to me from LA.”

Carlisle glances at her then, curiosity dancing in his eyes, “Younger brother?”

Ariel hums absently - information about her family has always been vague, often offhand comments. She knows that saying more is dangerous, but she still gives Carlisle a fleeting smile. Her chest swells in warmth at the mention of her younger brother, knowing that he sent her the birds to keep her company, that he’s out there, somewhere, at least somewhat worrying about her. It’s a comforting thought after spending so long away from her favorite sibling.

“Lucy,” she softly whispers, “I have a lot of siblings, but Lucy has always been my favorite - he’s one of the youngest ones, you know. My oldest brother used to always pick on him so I suppose I developed a habit of protecting him. Now he’s returning the favor by making sure that the birds keep me company. He used to make such a big fuss about me being alone so much.”

She lets out a small, fleeting laugh that fades away like a whisper. She seems to snap out of whatever daze that she had entered, fluffing her hair with a free hand. Carlisle spots the faint color that brushes against her cheeks. When she doesn’t explain much more, continuing on her way with a passing goodbye, Carlisle watches her leave with an unexplainable ache in his chest.


	8. Familiar Routines

The days blur together as Ariel’s presence within the hospital and even the town start to become more natural, less of an oddity or a new toy to gawk at. The eyes on her are fleeting and few, more often it’s in acknowledgement or greeting. She still hears the whispers between older nurses or the not so smart nurses, the ones that still look at her with a burning hatred or jealousy when she talks with ease to Carlisle in the hall or as they start to begin a routine of sitting outside for lunch. 

A few younger nurses, with more air in their heads than brains, would at times try to sit at the tables outside. As if their presence would be forced to be acknowledged, but each time Carlisle gives them little greeting before pulling out a chair that Ariel accepts with warm eyes. 

Ariel never comments when Carlisle never brings lunch to the table - the few times he has, it’s been offered to her on the days that her schedule is full and the chance for her to get to the cafeteria on time before everything is out is low. He always has a prestige container in his hand, one lacking condensation and is too clean to be well used despite the fact he has it every day.

She picks through a salad, eying the container in front to Carlisle with twinkling, amused eyes. He notes the way that she picks out the bits of kale and purple lettuce, eating around them, just as he’s noted the way that even though they’ve ate together quite often now, he’s not once seen her eat a piece of meat. It’s always vegetables. Fruits. Toast with spreads and creative wraps. 

He wonders if it’s a choice or a forced diet - his mind spinning with possible ideas. He’s been reading - modern forums to forgotten books. He imagines that his office at the house has many things thrown across the table with sprawling notes and marks. Pages that he's stolen from the Volturi that had previously been carefully stored away like a dark secret that are now being examined carefully under a low light; vague descriptions of things that they think may be out there, but don’t have anything concrete on.  _ Druid maybe, _ Carlisle hums.  _ She seems to have an affinity for nature, but I don’t know if that’s a characteristic of what she is or just a personality trait.  _

“I don’t think you’ve touched your drink, Dr. Cullen.”

Her voice is light, full of amusement as her eyes twinkle - as if it’s an inside joke. The corner of her lips are turned in a small smile and he can’t help but get the feeling that she’s baiting him - teasing him, poking at him to see if he’ll bite. He could be wrong - that’s always a possibility. But she’s looking at him with those dazzling eyes of hidden mischief. 

It’s a game of cat and mouse, their clever own version of tag. Their way of testing each other, prodding for more information and dancing around certain subjects. It’s routine that they’ve danced before - as if they both know that the other is hiding something, but neither of them are bothered by it. As if it’s just a fun game to see if they can get the other to whisper their secret first.

He has to admit; to a degree, the idea of her knowing what he really is thrills him more than worries him.  _ If _ she does know - if he’s not just reading too much into their dangerously flirtatious game - then it takes the load off of his shoulders, the idea of holding back and not leaning into whatever this is becoming. Edward wouldn’t be thrilled, he imagines that the others may not be either, but if she  _ does _ know - well, it’s not as if she’s run around town telling everyone about it or tried to kill them yet.

It makes the game more fun knowing that she’s not human either; he knows when she seems to keep pace him too easily in the halls, the fast reflexes of catching falling supplies, the way the animals seem to just be drawn to her - how even the deer reach out to them during their lunch routine, despite their fear of him. It just begs the real question - what is she? 

She’s told him so much - she has siblings, two of which live in LA with their respective spouses (mates?). One is her older brother - the oldest of them. The other is  _ Lucy  _ (a nickname, he thinks), her younger brother. Is her family like his? A chosen coven? Or are they really related? Are their mates human or otherwise?

“I don’t think I’ve seen you touch anything made from an animal.”

She has the nerve to laugh and he leans into the sound. Her grin is turning almost vicious as she continues to poke at her salad. 

“Maybe I’m just a vegetarian.”

She doesn’t say it as if it’s a fact - it’s as if she’s telling him a mere suggestion rather than an actual answer to his unspoken question. She spots the look in his eyes and snorts, the grin not leaving her face.

“The truth is,  _ Dr. Cullen, _ I just don’t simply support anything that’s unnecessary.”

It’s an unexpected answer, yet he thinks that it suits her. Her entire time at the hospital, she’s been the dread of lazy workers as she’s made quick work of turning some of the other nurses around and not hesitating to voice her opinion of those who don’t. She’s effective, efficient. Never beating around the bush or bothering with anything that it is not needed.

There’s an honesty to her voice and it piqued his interest as he gestures for her to continue. 

“Too many people take the world for granted and take more than they need. A lot of people don’t respect anything anymore either. Hunters kill for the trophy and discard the carcass as if an animal’s life serves no purpose.”

Ariel’s smile turns more grim, a somber undertone lying in her voice as she continues, “Don’t misunderstand me. I fully support someone who kills because it’s needed. If I had the time to go to hunt for my own meat so I could make use of its hides and furs as well, I would. But as I’m sure you know, a medical worker’s work is never done and free time is sacred.”

She hasn’t finished her salad, but it doesn’t stop her from standing with a stretch before grabbing her discarded plate and tossing it. He wonders if she’s going to leave him at that. For whatever reason, he seems to be the only one she really bothers talking with. Never dwindling with small talk with the others or going out for drinks when offered. But she never overstays her visit - always leaving briskly when she is done eating despite whatever conversation that they’re having or even if they still have time on the clock for their well-needed break.

But he doesn’t complain when she doesn’t leave this time, settling back down at the table as she leans back in the chair, closing her eyes with a low hum. The action is odd - too deliberate, almost out of character. He can’t tell if she’s playing him or if the walls that she holds are starting to come down.

“I wonder how much free time you have, Dr. Cullen,” she voices lightly, “Considering all the hiking trips that your family takes. Must be a considerate amount considering Alice has offered to take me to Seattle with her - I’m not sure why your daughter is so enamored with me, should I be worried that she’s going to whisk me away only for my picture to show up on the back of a milk carton?”

It’s a serious question that creates a mild tension in the air as a rock settles in his chest at the realization that as blanche as they’ve been, bordering on careless, if she really does know what they are, that worry would always be there, wouldn’t it? Of being eaten? Taken away?  _ Turned?  _ The realization almost hurts in ways that he wishes that it wouldn’t.

“ _ Never.” _

His answer is honest and heavy, it’s stated so firmly that Ariel peeks through a half lidded eye at him, noting the almost sad look in his eyes, and cracks a small smile that helps take away a bit of the growing tension.

“I figured as much,” Ariel answers simply, “You’re a very good doctor with a very good family, I imagine. Maybe I’ll take up her offer for a shopping trip - if anything so I don’t get so many spamming messages.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Carlisle offers as their break comes to a close and they make their way back into the hospital, “Alice can be quite insistent.”


	9. Relief in a Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amenadiel pays a visit to his little sister after Linda tells him about Ariel's new 'male friend' at the hospital, a specific Dr. Cullen.

Despite Ariel’s acceptance of Carlisle’s reassurance, it brings little reassurance to Carlisle himself. The reminder that no matter how they talk or banter, the bud of their friendship will always be haunted by the fact that he is a vampire. He doesn’t even think about the implications of Alice’s vision - knowing that she isn’t always right and the future can always change. What if the reason it changes is because someone snaps? What if someone loses control and he loses the small bit of friendship that he has with someone outside of their coven?

It bothers him more than he’d like to admit and to his relief, Edward doesn’t mention anything about his thoughts out loud to anyone nor does his ‘son’ try to talk to him about it either.

There’s so many unknowns - the biggest one being Ariel. It leaves so much room for so many things to go wrong and for regret. Unknowns that could get people hurt - people like Ariel or his coven. He could always take whatever regret or hurt may come to him, he always  _ will _ if it means the people around him can be safe. But she could regret this someday whatever  _ this _ may be - whether it is the beginning of their friendship or if they were ever to become something more like Alice is  _ still _ pushing for.

He really needs to stop thinking about that, honestly, but Alice’s vision still comes up in his mind every so often. Especially on the days where Ariel laughs or when she piques up some obscure fact from history that even  _ he _ didn’t know. Her intrigue, her focus on helping the patients with little patience for the drama of the other nurses, it  _ fascinates _ him. The idea that she could be like  _ him -  _ someone inhuman who is trying to atone for their sins or someone inhuman who is simply trying to use their gifts for the better of mankind. It  _ kills _ him to try to figure out which it is.

“Dr. Cullen,” Ariel’s voice almost startles him. He didn’t hear her come up from behind him, leaving him a tad flustered and surprised. She notices and her eyes twinkle - as if she likes the idea of sneaking up on him. “You have a patient in Room 3 waiting for you, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

She grins wildly at him and he can hear her laugh as she begins to saunter off. Yes. Maybe it would be a good idea to avoid her for a while - just until he figures out if she  _ does _ know  _ for sure _ and  _ is okay _ with whatever this is. Just until he figures out why it makes him so nervous.

  
  


* * *

She is running late for lunch. Despite being faster than humans, it’s a feat that she has managed quite a few times due to her losing herself in the work, always making sure everything is perfect for the next patient and never missing a detail on her notes. She goes to the break room knowing that her break is going to be short and limited, but she still finds herself looking forward to it due to not having a chance to see Dr. Cullen at all throughout the day; their schedules seemingly never fitting together for a moment of greeting or banter.

The food is gone; she expected this and yet it still disappoints her when the offered plates of usual fruits and odd-ends are empty. Most of the break room has already emptied out by now too, leaving crumbs and discarded plates. She doesn’t necessarily  _ need _ food - but she does  _ like _ it. Just like Lucy likes alcohol, she relishes in sweet fruits and juices. The refreshing taste of her lunch has become a highlight of her day, something that recharges her to finish a shift, keep her going. 

She glances outside toward the patio area - her usual oasis, but finds it empty. Still no Dr. Cullen - a Dr. Cullen that had before made a point to arrive earlier to reserve her some food. No Dr. Cullen means no food; but on a dimmer note, it also means  _ no Dr. Cullen’s company.  _

Ariel isn’t pleased at the change of direction that her friendship with Carlisle is taking. She has to admit that it has been over a week now that she’s missed his presence at lunch, but today he hadn’t even offered her an off-colored excuse for it. It’s a shame, really - something that leaves a hollow feeling in her chest that makes her skin itch. 

She regrettably enjoyed his company, had gotten used to it, and fallen into an easy routine with him that she, through banter and dancing words, enjoyed. She  _ loved _ toying with him - she could see why Lucy did it so much, it was fun to make them  _ wonder.  _ But she also loved the honest conversation, telling too much while telling him nothing at all. Opening up about the little things, yet still staying tight-lipped about others.

It shouldn’t bother her this much. Humans have come and gone in her life many times before - none of which bothered her, she had brushed it all off easily enough, had gotten used to the death of the few people in history that she found tolerable. But Carlisle isn’t dead; he is just acting as if she is.

She’s not used to this type of hurt - this type of annoyance. She can feel the twitch forming under her eye as she glances at one of the few people still left in the room. The nurse glances at her with a bit of concern, but Ariel gives a tight-lipped smile and an excuse of being disappointed about missing lunch, but that she’d live. Her words are hollow, but the other nurse doesn’t question it - doesn’t question her.

She decides that maybe her break is better spent working today; that it’s one of those  _ no break _ types of days, that she can busy herself and stay busy until she has a chance to go home to process the raw, unfamiliar, underlying emotion that is starting to build up in her chest. 

She grows infuriated, an odd rage bubbling under her skin, when she sees Carlisle in the lobby. He stands with his back to her, talking softly to the woman behind the counter as he shuffles through notes on a clipboard; something about his nonchalant behavior of not going to lunch with her makes her boil.

As if he senses the change in energy, he glances behind his shoulder briefly and meets her eyes as she stalks toward him with every intention of getting some answers. He almost takes a step back at the fire in her eyes - the stiffness of her posture mimicking that of a predator finally coming for the kill. He’s never really been  _ scared _ of someone before - not a singular person and especially not  _ after _ he became a vampire. He almost forgot what it felt like, being the prey. 

He wonders if he can get away fast enough or if he should swallow it down and face whatever justice Ariel seems to be wanting to file. It should be expected - his avoidance of her had become less subtle within the last few days as he distracted himself with work. But he had never quite expected this level of rage from her - the boiling in her eyes, the posture of an animal ready to strike, and the absolute primal fear that hits him deep in his bones. 

“Excuse me, Miss Ariel.” 

The second woman behind the counter lights up as she spots Ariel behind Carlisle. Carlisle visibly relaxes when Ariel’s attention is turned away from him, the sudden wall of energy that had hit him weakening.

“You have a visitor - I almost turned him down - but he insisted and you’re on your break…  _ and he’s very charming _ .”

The woman flushes, whispering the last part as she glances in Carlisle’s direction. Carlisle raises a brow, which causes the flush on her cheeks to deepen, but doesn’t voice any objection to the visitation as curiosity blossoms in his chest. 

Meanwhile, Ariel swallows down rage as she wonders which brother chose to visit, but she gets her answer as she spots a familiar dark face wandering up to the counter with a friendly, tadley forced grin.

Carlisle watches the newcomer closely, mixed emotions stirring. He looks as if he could rival Emmett, being large with broad shoulders and muscled arms; he looks  _ strong and big _ , despite the way that his cleanly pressed clothes and friendly smile soften his edges, his size is even more apartment compared to Ariel. Though he is a few inches taller, his overall silhouette shadows over her, looking as if he could snap her into two pieces. Ariel has always felt off - slightly surreal, almost ethereal at times when she laughed and the world looked brighter. But this man feels old - out of place like an odd time traveler, slightly awkward posture that makes it obvious that he is not fully comfortable in his surroundings, but it doesn’t stop the soft smile on his face or the intelligence that beams in his eyes.

He doesn’t  _ smell.  _ The scent of blood is even fainter in him. Unlike Ariel, there’s no overpowering smell of nature and pines. He doesn’t even really  _ smell _ like anything - just  _ clean. _ Carlisle meets his eyes - not dazzling yellow like Ariel’s, but darker and  _ older. _ However, Carlisle can’t explain the way that the man’s eyes make him  _ flinch. _

_ Why couldn’t it have been the other one,  _ Ariel wonders tiredly; while a visit from Lucy would always cause mayhem, it would be welcome if it meant she gets to see her little brother, even more so on a day that seems to continue to kick her in the crotch (as Lucy would say). She almost prays out to her father, but washes her mind of the fleeting thought.

“Delia” Ariel’s voice draws out, “What did I do to owe the pleasure of your company?”

Ariel’s smile is forced while Amanadiel’s is natural, charming and deep as he thanks the woman behind the counter for her help before he greets his sister. She knows that come tomorrow, she is going to be the center of a  _ lot _ more rumors. She doesn’t lean into his embrace or really accept it, but it doesn’t stop him from throwing his arm around her shoulders. At the contact, the long day begins to really hit her as she sighs and lets Amanadiel gently lead her to a more private location for their visit. 

She doesn’t miss the look he throws over his shoulder to Carlisle and her shoulders begin to sag as she realizes that the talk she is about to have is not going to be an easy one. 

The worst part, Ariel decides as Amenadiel drags her into an empty room as if it’s their own private office, is that she knows that Carlisle is going to hear every word out of their mouth - vampire hearing is a bitch that way. She still feels a lingering pettiness toward him that she can’t bring herself to care - not fully - and judging from the look in Amenadiel’s eyes, he  _ knows _ \- and he is  _ not _ happy. 

Ariel leans against the wall, her head resting as she closes her eyes and prepares herself as this goes from a bad day to a worse one; the type of day that is so bad that this may as well happen. The rage at Carlisle is still boiling at a low simmer in her veins as she takes deep breaths through her nose, trying to solve one problem at time. 

“Linda told me that you mentioned making new friends,” Amenadiel starts, his voice stiff. “She was thrilled that you were branching out and frankly, I was too. But  _ really _ Ariel?  _ I know that you know what he is.” _

“Of course I know what he is, Deila.” Ariel’s voice is tired as she speaks slowly, “I’m just surprised that you do - I didn’t think you or Lucy paid that much attention.”

Oh. She can  _ feel _ Amenadiel’s energy - the tension, the string that is tightening and is about to snap. A part of her knows that his reaction is justified - but it’s also the exact reason that she didn’t mention Carlisle’s true nature to either him nor Linda. 

“I’m a big girl, Amenadiel. I can take care of myself if it comes to it. I’m the second  _ oldest _ for a reason… Besides, Carlisle and his coven don’t pose any threat to Forks or anyone and I don’t think that they will. Yellow eyes and all.”

The rage that has been simmering is starting to  _ burn,  _ her mind spinning with reasoning - this is exactly why she doesn’t tell him  _ anything. _ Perfect child Amenadiel -  _ you’ll never be as good as Amenadiel - _ Amenadiel can do no wrong. Amenadiel is the soothsayer, the one  _ everyone _ has to listen to,  _ no one  _ goes against God’s favorite, the messenger.  _ Stop treating me like I am a child, Amenadiel.  _

“Yellow eyes,” Amenadiel scoffs, “What good are yellow eyes when they’re  _ killers _ , Ariel?  _ Monsters? _ What will it take for that doctor friend of yours to turn on his patient? How  _ long _ will it take?”

“ _ Carlisle _ has the most self-control I’ve ever witnessed,” Ariel’s voice is a vice, tight and restricting as she spits the words out between locked teeth. “More than any human I’ve met. More than  _ even you - _ he has more self control than  _ I do. _ He operates on humans all the time, Diela. Day in. Day out. I’ve seen it for months now - months of acting human when blood is seeping through scrubs, months of not even  _ flinching _ when he is stitching up a  _ human heart _ . Months of nothing  _ but the strongest self-control _ .”

“How many times have  _ you _ lost control, Diela? In just these past years alone,” Ariel’s voice turns accusing, “How many times has Lucy?”

“We don’t  _ kill _ people if we lose our control,” Amenadiel stresses, but he is losing the argument and he knows it.

He wishes that it would be easier, but Ariel’s stubbornness combined with her own strong sense of belief makes her the hardest one to talk to. He’s never been able to get through to her - not the way Lucy has, not the way that Uriel did, or the way Mom could. Out of everyone, he dares to say that they’re the ones who have always clashed the most - dangerously so after Lucifer got thrown out.

Ariel cocks a brow and Amenadiel back tracks.

“Not in the way that  _ they  _ do, Ariel. We’re not  _ made _ to hurt people like they are…”

His words only turn up the heat on the rage that is brewing in her veins as it goes from a simmer to a roaring boil. A fire grows in her eyes and Amenadiel can feel the thick tension that brews in the air between them, the heavy energy of a fight waiting to happen. He can see it in the tenseness of her shoulders, the way her nails are digging into her fists. He almost humors it - almost matches the aggression, almost takes a step forward ready to take whatever hits that she wants to throw his way. 

“ _ You’re not _ made to hurt people, Amenadiel,” Ariel hisses, “ _ You’re the one  _ not made to hurt  _ humans _ \- you’re not the one who used to  _ like  _ it.”

But her nails are making small cuts into her palm. Ariel doesn’t seem to notice - or care - nor does it seem to really hurt her, but Amenadiel can see the small thin lines of blood forming under her fingers. He takes a step back and takes a deep breath as he rolls his shoulders, refusing to match her energy. He can practically feel the thin tethers that are holding them together start to break apart. 

“They have a  _ choice, _ Delia, a choice that all living beings have - and Carlisle  _ chooses _ to not hurt anyone. Just like the rest of his coven. They all  _ choose _ to at least  _ try.  _ If they lose control - as all creatures do at times - then  _ I  _ will handle it. But do  _ not _ call them monsters, Delia.”

It’s a choice that she is trying to make too; a choice that she struggles with when patients aren’t polite or grateful for what the nurses are doing, when male coworkers make bad comments, or when all the girls on the unit have decided that she is their enemy because father-forbid that she’s friends with Dr. Cullen.

But Carlisle  _ doesn’t _ struggle with it. She sees it in his eyes. The way he doesn’t falter during surgery or when a patient is causing trouble. He shows only kindness. Warmth. If he can do it - she likes to think that she can too. 

Ariel’s fire is starting to go out, her eyes dimming as she relaxes her shoulders and releases the nails from her palm.  __ Amenadiel can see it now more than ever, the tired, almost hopeless gleam to her eyes and the exhaustion that is settling in her bones. 

“I’m getting too old to be arguing with my older brother,” she admits softly, the ambers of the fire burning away to nothing as she rests her head against the wall. 

“And I don’t like arguing with you either, but Carlisle is an amazing man. You wouldn’t believe how many people I’ve seen him help - how many broken bones that he’s set, how many smiles he’s put on patients’ faces, how many  _ lives _ he’s saved. And I’ve seen the look in his eyes when someone comes in that can’t be helped. Vampire or not, he puts  _ everything _ into this hospital, into this town, too much so to ever be called a monster.”

Amenadiel watches her carefully - curiously. Linda had told him about Ariel’s friendship with this  _ Dr. Cullen,  _ but considering that nothing is ever that simple, he should have expected this.  _ And of course it’s with a vampire,  _ he bemotes.

“Ariel,” Amenadiel takes a step forward, “I’m just worried about you,  _ sister. _ ”

His words are a broken record - something she’s heard a thousand times before, but she still doesn’t object when he embraces her. She rests her forehead on his chest, not having the strength to return it.

“Why are you visiting here, anyway.” Ariel’s voice is slightly muffled and soft.

“Well - I -”

Amenadiel falters and he can feel the stuttering shaking laughter from Ariel before she moves, looking up at him with knowing eyes.

“You heard that your little sister had a  _ male _ friend,” Ariel teases, her voice becoming almost sing-song as she pokes fun at him. Her eyes are still tired, but Amenadiel has to admit that he feels relief that she isn’t angry, that they’re still  _ siblings. _

“-Linda was curious too,” Amenadiel admits, not denying the reason for his prompt visit.

Ariel hums as they start to leave the room, the pressure on her chest still present but not as heavy. The few nosy nurses that glance their way doesn’t go unnoticed, a few glancing into the room that they just left as if there would be evidence of some sort of scandal. 

“Just promise me that you’ll call us if something happens,” Amenadiel’s hand lands on her shoulder, “We’re always here for you, Ariel.”

She really wishes that he would just leave, her cheeks starting to burn at the accusing eyes of a few stand-off nurses, feeling oddly flustered as she knows that as soon as in an hour, the entire floor is going to be flooded with rumors.

  
  


* * *

Carlisle tries to give them as much space as he possibly could. A part of him hopes, as he sees the larger man escort Ariel into an empty room, that if he puts enough distance between himself and that room then he wouldn’t hear anything he’s not supposed to - that he wouldn’t even be tempted to eavesdrop. It didn’t matter how much he wanted to. If anything to get a glimpse into who the man was - why Ariel is so casual with him, being more relaxed than he’s seen her around anyone else in the hospital? Why did the man glare at him like that? 

But his next patient isn’t too far from the room that they’ve chosen - it’s just one over in fact. While the patient flinches, hearing loud noises and the brink of what seems to be muffled yelling in the next room over (something that Carlisle does his best to calm and gives half-hearted excuses of arguing couples), Carlisle hears every word clearly. Too clearly. He hears too much, he admits, and he hears things that he probably shouldn’t. 

A part of him can’t help but feel that he violated some sort of trust by listening in, but he can’t help the wave of relief that washes over him as he puts the pieces together.

_ Amenadiel.  _ Odd name - it reminds him of his bible days and almost makes him feel some sort of odd melancholic nostalgia.  _ Ariel’s older brother - the oldest of all of their siblings while Ariel stands second.  _ It brings him more questions than answers, his mind spiraling with possibilities. It makes it more likely that her family is chosen like his coven, but something about their relationship with each other runs deeper, deep like a real, blood-bonded sibling. 

But it also brings confirmation. Ariel, as well as this Amenadiel, despite their physical differences (not even sharing the same eye color like all vampires do), are  _ not _ human. It almost makes him relieved - excited, more eager to pursue a friendship with someone who can understand. As to  _ what _ she is - that still is the big question. It makes his head spin as he absorbs everything they say as if they may actually reveal what they are, if they will give him the answer to his puzzle. But they don’t. They dance around it.  _ We’re not made to hurt people.  _ But he thinks of Ariel’s blazing eyes, the primal fear that had rattled his bones.  _ You’re not made to hurt people, Amenadiel. You’re the one not made to hurt humans - you’re not the one who used to like it. _

Her voice wavers with her argument with her brother as she cries about the sins of her past and it is a painful reminder of many members of his own coven - and himself. That they’re much more similar than he thought - almost painfully so. 

She also knows what he  _ is. _ There’s no doubt about it - as Amenadiel spits out the word  _ monster _ like venom while Ariel defends his coven -  _ defends him _ \- to her own brother with vicious passion. She doesn’t hesitate to use the word vampire, just as she doesn’t falter in her confidence of handling them should something happen despite the way that her tone suggests that she really believes that it won’t. That she trusts them.  _ She trusts him.  _

_ Carlisle is an amazing man.  _ Her words ring in his ears - she doesn’t use  _ vampire, creature, being.  _ She uses  _ man.  _ With conviction, confidence and security. He feels an odd sensation build in his chest, something akin to fascination, awe, but he can’t quite name it. He’s almost too scared to.

He exits his patient’s room with a soft smile on the edge of his lips and has the unfortunate luck to run into both of them as they exit. The nurses that are scattered about don’t escape his notice either - but it gets pushed into the back of his mind. He will handle the chaos of the gossip later. 

Ariel’s back is to him and he can catch the scent of her hair in the breeze of the hall. She doesn’t notice his presence as she watches her older brother leave. Amenadiel, however, does notice him as he whispers a goodbye to Ariel, giving her a tight embrace. His eyes don’t leave Carlisle’s from behind Ariel’s back. His dark eyes linger on the doctor, almost warning him, but it’s softer this time around. Not the unwavering threat of death, but the vice of a protective sibling not wanting their little sister to get hurt. 

Carlisle gives him a subtle nod - an understanding.

_ I promise I won’t hurt her.  _

  
  



	10. Honesty

**CHAPTER NINE**

**HONESTY**

Ariel feels exhausted, to the point where she feels like she should just ask to see if she can go ahead and leave for the day - it’s a slow day with not many patients after all. Her will to interact with humans - people - has dramatically decreased. Her conversation with Amenadiel, paired with the lingering frustration at Carlisle, is leaving her tired, emotionally drained. 

Amenadiel’s embrace lasts too long for her comfort and she almost teases him about having to let her go at some point, but it seems like all she does is blink before he’s down the hall and already heading back to his family. 

When she turns, ready to make her case to the head nurse about leaving for the day, she’s met with soft bronze eyes, staring at her in understanding. She meets his gaze with sharp eyes, eyes that let him know that she hasn’t forgotten how angry that she is with him. But that he is safe from her wrath - for now.

She plans on leaving it for today - let her get a chance to rest, gather her thoughts and then she comes at him full-force tomorrow with the wrath of a banshee. So she ignores him - ignores the almost pleading look in his eyes, the one begging to talk to get answers, to get peace. But as she passses by him, brushes against him, his hand grabs her wrist in a tight hold. 

His eyes go to the thin lines of blood along her palm. Each line is thin, the exact size of each of her fingernails, but the cuts are deep. Deep enough to be concerning and deep enough that the blood is pooling in her palm. He’s surprised, he admits, that she is hurt in the first place, but he supposes that he doesn’t know enough of the specifics of what she is to know what can hurt her. 

Her blood smells different - he didn’t notice it before, not beneath the layers of pine and wood that surround her like it’s her natural scent. But with her blood hitting the air around them, he wonders how he didn’t notice it before. It smells - pure. It lacks the metallic undertones of human blood. It smells... untainted. Too good to taste. It’s like when you walk in on something that you’re not supposed to know about it or when you cross over an unmarked grave. It smells like something that he’s never supposed to touch. The idea of it feels - oddly wrong, like he’s not allowed to. 

“You’re bleeding,” Carlisle speaks and she can see the darker shadows in his eyes, “I can’t have any of the nurses walk around hurt in my hospital.”

He almost reacts when she breaks free from her grip - an unspoken show of just how strong she is. He gets the feeling that yes - if it comes down to it and someone does loose control, she would be capable of handling it. 

She almost tells him that she can take care of it herself - it’s right on her tongue, the idea of refusing his help. 

“Let me help you take care of it.”

She accepts.

* * *

  
  


Carlisle walks her to his office, something that she doesn’t oppose only because if she were to go in as a typical patient, it would draw too much attention. Too much paperwork. Father-forbid they pay too much attention to her skin, her blood, the inhumanness of her. So Carlisle’s office offers a vague sense of security, the promise that nothing will leave the office’s walls, that anything that happens in the room stays within the room.

She is not sure about if the Board would be thrilled about a nurse, technically, getting injured on duty nor the attending doctor taking her to his office to ‘patch her up.’ But as Lucifer once told her - sometimes it’s good to go the unofficial, sometimes slightly illegal route. It’s not advice that she takes too often, granted, but like all advice given, it has its time and its place. 

It’s quiet. Deafening so. They don’t say a word to each other. Carlisle tries a few times, but she can see very clearly that he doesn’t even know what to say and Ariel’s lack of response eventually makes him sigh and stay quiet. Carlisle waves for her to take a seat and she opts to sit on the empty spot on his desk as he pulls out a medical kit. 

He kneels on the ground, a medical kit beside him, and she lays her hands palm-up on her knees for him to clean the wounds. She lets him, not bothering much to say that it will heal up fast on its own. She tries to avoid looking down at him, avoiding his eyes and the curls of blonde that brush against his cheekbone.

He can feel the questions bumbling in his throat, but it doesn’t feel right to ask her about a conversation that he wasn’t supposed to hear. He swallows the curiosity down as much as he can. 

“Does this hurt,” Carlisle asks softly, his fingertips barely brushing against the skin of her palm and she sucks in air through her teeth at the electric, gentle caress.

She lets out a small huff at the flush that dusts her cheeks and he has the nerve to look at her in amusement with a cocked brow. 

“Not particularly,” Ariel states simply, “I shouldn’t have let my emotions get so ahead of me….”

Carlisle doesn’t offer any comment, nodding along as he sprays her palms down with a disinfectant. He looks to her for the okay before he does, knowing that it will sting, but she just nods nonchalantly and gives no reaction to the light burning sensation that it shoots through her hands. She eventually gathers the energy to look at him, watch him as he cleans the cuts and bandages it effectively. Wordlessly.

He doesn’t try to make small talk, nor does he offer any apology - it should make her rage boil again in her blood, but instead it only makes her mildly annoyed. More so when she looks too closely at the skin of his cheeks as if she would be able to catch some evidence that he’s as flustered about this as she is beginning to be.

_ This is silly,  _ she tries to convince herself. There’s no reason for her to get a bit flustered just because he touched her hand - she is not some young virgin or school girl. Even so, there is no reason for her to expect him to feel flustered. She’s still in her slightly off-fitted scrubs and is fairly sure that she doesn’t look her best after being so drained.

When he’s finished, she flexes her palms and notes that, as almost everything he does, the bandaging fits perfectly. 

“This doesn’t make me forgive you,” Ariel states simply, watching as he gets his things together, making no move to remove herself from the counter of his desk. Her voice lacks its usual candace, falling flat with its tired tone.

“If we are friends, or at the very least decent coworkers, then maybe you should let me know if I shouldn’t expect your company at lunch before I take my lunch late and find all the food missing. If I had known that you weren’t joining me, I would have least brought my own lunch today.”

Her words make him flinch, making him guilty for his avoidance of her. With a deep sigh, he turns to her and matches her gaze. She doesn’t falter, looking at him in a way that makes him feel like she is staring right into his soul. It’s a steady, even, unblinking gaze from tired eyes. 

“I haven’t been a very decent friend, have I,” Carlisle’s voice is a thoughtful hum, before he continues sincerely, “I’m sorry, it wasn’t very right of me to avoid you.”

He stands a bit too close for comfort - close enough that if someone were to see them, it would seem indecent. Especially with her sitting on his desk. He tries to swallow down that train of thought, keep his mind friendly. 

But the flush on Ariels cheeks is visible. The direct forward was of his apology taking her off guard, the emotional openness being unfamiliar and unexpected. Different. 

“I have to admit that I thought it was the best course of action,” Carlisle continues, “As I wasn’t certain of your knowledge of us, I didn’t think it was fair to continue a friendship unless you knew.”

It’s a subtle way of confirming what she already knew - that he overheard her conversation with Amenadiel. She already knew, but she’s glad that Carlisle is acknowledging it some way. That he’s not trying to hide that he knows what she’s said, but still giving her the space to tell him what she wants him to know. 

Carlisle continues, a shadow forming in his eyes. 

“I thought that unless you knew, that you may regret it otherwise. You have to know that this may not be safe.”

There’s a sincerity to his voice, a pleading forgiveness look in his eyes. It makes Ariel pause. She knows that look in his eyes, she’s seen in Lucy’s eyes when he’s cried in her arms about being a monster - the devil that takes all the blame. She’s seen in the mirror on the low days when people feel like too much to handle or when she wonders if she’s doing the right thing. That self-loathing that you feel so deep in your gut that makes you want to confess your sins and repent. Just so it gets easier. 

She hopes that the rest of his coven don’t have that look in their eyes. It hits close to home, reminds her of when she would whisper to Lucy that they’re not monsters, they just didn’t have a choice to become what they are. But they can make a choice to better themselves, if anything to spite their father. 

Ariel snorts and Carlisle looks to her, a bit startled. 

“There are a few things that I hold very close to my core beliefs - I don’t waste anything, whether it’s food, supplies or  _ my time.  _ If I thought I would regret something, I simply wouldn't do it. If I thought that I would regret a friendship with you or your family, I wouldn’t have been spending my breaks with you.”

Ariel gives him a soft, fleeting smile that reaches her eyes in a way that makes her beam. Carlisle feels the weight off his shoulders lifting as he returns the smile and offers her a hand to help her down from the desk. 

She takes the hand and her soft hop off is graceful, her feet not even making a sound as she lands.

“The best things in life are usually not the safest,” Ariel’s grim is almost cheeky, teasing. “And I can take care of myself, I can assure you that a friendship with you isn’t going to be the end of me.”

The inference that a friendship with him is one of the best things in her life - that inference that she enjoys their friendship, enjoys him, makes him swallow hard with a flutter. He watches the way that her eyes gain their spark, twinkling in the low light of the office. 

“Then at least let me make it up to you,” Carlisle offers and Ariel looks at him with curiosity, cocking a brow suggestively. 

He hesitates, correcting himself as he realized the way that his proposition was beginning to sound. 

“- the staff is having a get together tomorrow night at the local bar. Not normally the type of event I attend, but if you join me, I’d be happy to pick up your tab.”

Ariel’s eyes gleam with amusement, a part of her not being able to picture Carlisle in any sort of bar or pub, especially not with the rest of the nurses over a football game eating wings and beer. The idea is almost hilarious, seeing him ‘cracking open a cold one with the boys.’ She imagines that yes, it most definitely isn’t the type of event he’d attend, but the fact that he would so he could simply pick up her tab is appealing. Free alcohol always has its appeal.

“I can create a fairly hefty-sized tab, very easily,” Ariel lightly warns, “And I’m sure you know that if we both attend that the rumors are only going to spread even more. Several already think we’re having some sort of love affair.”

Carlisle pointedly ignores the rumors about them together, serving as a reminder of Alice’s visions.

“No matter what we decide to do, that the rumor mill will always be spinning,” Carlisle points out, “We may as well choose to do what we wish.”

Ariel hums, “I suppose that is true - think you’re really up for the challenge?”

Carlisle offers her an arm and she takes it. Carlisle’s eyes gleam in amusement as they share the moment of a shared, silent joke. “I believe I can handle myself. I can pick you up at seven, if you’d prefer.”

Ariel’s laugh is dazzling, “Dr. Cullen you are going to break many hearts. I’ll see you at seven.”


	11. The Not - A - Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *made light edits to this chapter as of May 4, 2020*  
> The edits are to a small narration when they interact with Charlie and Billy and to their conversation about Carlisle's past relationship with alcohol/his time as a priest.

“It sounds like a date,” Rosalie’s arms are crossed, watching Carlisle carefully, eyeing his outfit and perfectly combed hair - something about it feeling more deliberate, purposeful, as if he wants to look his best. He’s _preening._

Carlisle sighs a bit at her tone of voice, denying that it is just a friendly outing, that all of the staff will be attending. Edward even cocks an eyebrow in disbelief from across the room. Alice buzzes with excitement, her eyes twinkling with mischief and glee. Jasper makes a point to add an extra step between them, her excitement making his skin buzz, but not having the heart to try to calm her. 

“You don’t _go_ to staff parties,” Emmet argues, a large shit-eating grin stretching across his face, “At least you don’t unless _she’s_ going.”

“Yes, it would be rather hard to pay her tab otherwise,” Carlisle replies dryly, “I avoided her without explanation and as such, I need to make amends.”

“It’s more than that,” Edward piques up, his voice almost accusing, and Carlisle flinches as he sighs - he was always rather poor at hiding his thoughts from Edward.

“I’ve confirmed that she’s not human, thought what she is exactly is still unknown,” Carlisle confirms, feeling the buzz that his words create and the tension in Edward’s stance, “Her brother visited the hospital yesterday and their conversation had made that very clear - just as she made it very clear that she knows what we are _and_ that she has no issues with our coven.”

“In fact…” A ghost of a grin threatened to break on Carlisle’s face, his eyes growing somewhat fond, “She rather defended us against her brother.”

_Defended us. Defended me._ Carlisle’s ears still ring with the echo of her words and Edward listens to the replay of the conversation. A part of him, the part that still thinks himself a monster, feels a melonachic relief that someone who is a potential mate for Carlisle does not see him as a monster.

There’s a share look between the rest of the coven, that mutual understanding as they all see the gleam in Carlisle’s eyes. Edward leans back, refusing to comment as he accepts the fact that Carlisle is more likely to pursue her now; the memory that Carlisle relayed of her passion over her protectiveness of a coven that is not even hers serves as a point in her favor. 

Despite being inhuman, he doubts that she will prove a threat to the coven - her brother, on the other hand, is a different story. But for now - he can’t deny Carlisle the chance of finding his mate after all of this time alone. 

“Okay, fine,” Rosaline’s voice is tight as her lips thin. Emmett takes a side-step away from her, eying her cautiously as he recognizes that look in her eyes. 

“Let’s say it’s not a date.” Rosalie continues, “Do you _want_ it to be?”

The pause in Carlisle says all that they need to know - it’s answer enough to Rosalie’s question. The hesitation in his eyes - the way he tightens his lips and rolls them over before he finally speaks.

“What I want is hardly up for discussion,” Carlisle chooses his words carefully and slowly, “If it’s a date, then it is not my decision to make. Unless Ariel chooses for our relationship to progress into something more, understands the restrictions and the dangers of doing so, then we will cross that bridge.”

Alice pouts with a huff, her vision still plays in her head. Jasper places a hand on her shoulder to comfort her and she leans into the touch.

“What about the Volturi,” Edward finally asks, “If that bridge gets crossed - what about them?”

The mention of them makes everyone tense, shifting eyes with stiff shoulders. Alice shifts uncomfortably, the council being far from the forefront of her mind while she focuses on the potential of her vision. Despite her confidence that if something really bad would happen that she would see it coming, she is never fully sure about it.

Carlisle’s lips thin, while his respect for the Volturi is present, his disagreements with them are far from few. It doesn’t change the fact that the Volturi are never scared to enforce the rules nor are they ever quiet if they don’t like something. 

“If we reach that bridge, we can discuss more of it,” Carlisle finally decides, “For now, Ariel has been in Forks for months. I doubt that they are aware of her presence, just as I doubt that they are aware of whatever she is. If our friendship progresses, I think that they won’t find out for a while. That will give us time to decide what to do if it becomes an issue.”

No one can quite argue with that answer. If the Volturi become an issue, they’ll handle it like they always do - but it’s not as if anyone of them have mates that are outside their own species either. At least not yet. 

It doesn’t change their shared want of Carlisle having someone to share his existence with after everything he has done for each of them. But Rosalie takes a step forward, worry in her eyes. Despite her want for Carlisle to be happy, she doesn’t know Ariel - she doesn’t know if something will happen that will ruin Carlisle’s chance for happiness. She doesn’t know if he will get his heart torn apart or worse. 

She just wants her coven - her family - to be happy and _together._

“Just, be careful, Carlisle,” Rosalie finally speaks up, her eyes almost as soft as her voice. 

“Always.”

* * *

Carlisle decides to take his car. More out of appearance than anything and he still isn’t sure just how much knowledge of vampires that Ariel has, if she knows about their speed or if she could even match it. The train of thought makes him wonder about what _she can_ do. 

She opens the door before he knocks, smiling coyly as her eyes run him over. The lack of scrubs and stethoscope is different, almost foreign. But she can’t say that his clothes don’t suit him - the casual clothes still being cleanly pressed and just shy of being too formal for a staff party at a bar. He still looks like a doctor - a _handsome_ doctor. 

“You look rather fetching, Dr. Cullen, should I have changed into something more formal?”

Her compliment momentarily takes him off guard, bringing his attention back to her face, having looked her over just as much as she did to him. The jeans being tighter than the ones he had seen her in before, lacking the flare of her usual bell bottoms and the high waist highlighting her figure. The satin tank top looks expensive, but comfortable, suiting the light tan on her skin and is just low cut enough to show the middle of her breastbone. 

It’s something so simple, yet so different and very much suitable for her. The closer he looks, the more he can see the subtle touches of her makeup on her face, highlighting her cheekbones and the color of her eyes. 

“No,” Carlisle processes her question with a smile, “You look perfect.”

The honesty in his voice makes her cheeks flush as she lightly huffs, letting him lead her to the car. 

“If you compliment all the nurses like that, it’s no wonder that they’re all so stricken with you.”

* * *

The car ride was different than what she is used to; it was very different than riding in her own vehicle, but at least it was not as chaotic as Lucifer’s driving nor as suicidal and carefree as Mazikeen’s driving. It was quiet, quick. _Comfortable._

She didn’t imagine being so comfortable in such a confining piece of metal, yet she hardly felt the longing for fresh air during the ride. Carlisle’s presence driving gave her a sense of trust and safety. 

He opens the car door for her and she accepts the arm he offers. The bar is still in Forks, but more on the border than she expected it to be. It looks different the other bar she saw in town - more up to date, bigger, and cleaned up. Being closer to the highway gives it more foot traffic. She sees a couple of odd cars in the parking lot with out-of-state plates, but a majority are the same cars that she’s seen before in the staff parking of the hospital. 

She sees a few unfamiliar faces inside, giving a soft thanks to Carlisle as he holds the door yet again and gestures for her to head in first. She spots most of her coworkers already getting to work on their drinks. A karaoke is an odd choice until she sees a sign on the wall that it’s their special karaoke night, which makes her wonder if her coworkers set it up for tonight on purpose. She thinks so considering that Beth is the one currently on stage belting out her rendition of _Don’t Go Breaking My Heart_ with several of the other nurses cheering her on. 

It’s more casual than she thought it would be, too used to the parties that Lucifer would throw at Lux and the formal charity balls at the police station in LA. But it’s not an unwelcome development as she breathes a sigh of relief. 

“I’ll get us drinks from the bar,” Carlisle offers and she nods knowingly that his drink will just be another prop to appear the same as everyone else. After a second’s hesitation, he continues, “Any preferences?”

“Anything light,” Ariel offers, “But if they continue singing, I may go heavier as the night goes on.”

As Carlisle heads to the bar, looking every bit as uncomfortable and out of place as she expected him to be, Ariel takes a seat at a table half-way hidden by the shadows and more out of the way. A few of the nurses noticed Carlisle’s presence, giving him unprovoked, slightly tipsy whistles and waves. He rolls his eyes good-heartedly, giving them a small friendly wave that sends them into a frenzy. 

To Ariel’s displeasure, the only person who noticed her is Brett who gives her a flirtatious wink that makes her regret coming in the first place. Thankfully, the moment Carlisle appears at her table with her drinks, Brett makes a point of ignoring her presence very quick. 

“Thank you, Dr. Cullen,” Ariel raises her drink to him as a thanks before taking the first of many drinks.

“ _Carlisle._ We’re not at the hospital, Ariel. Please call me _Carlisle.”_

Ariel mouths his name on her lips, her eyes softening as she nods in understanding. 

“Well, _Carlisle,_ thank you for the drink - I open you kept your tab open.”

Her eyes twinkle as she gives a soft laugh, as Carlisle reassures her that she can order as much as she’d like, “I hope so, considering you ignored me for weeks, I plan to at the very least, take advantage of the offer of free liquor and food.”

Carlisle smiles, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at the light teasing as she nudges him lightly. The strength of the nudge surprises him only for a second, recovering fast as he realizes that she meant to do that on purpose. He can see it in the mischief in her eyes. 

  
  


* * *

It takes a while for Ariel to spot another friendly, more welcomed face in the bar; with him going unnoticed due to the dull roar of the nurses that have been taking turns on stage. When Carlisle notices that her attention has shifted, he follows her gaze and grins at the unexpected patron. 

_Charlie._ Seeing the cop is unexpected, with him seeming slightly uncomfortable at all the noise. A part of her wonders if it would be rude for her not to at least say hi; if it would raise suspicion if he saw them, but they ignored him. She stayed with Lucy long enough to know that when it comes down to it, it’s always best to have the law enforcement on your side - or at the very least, a friend on the inside.

While her interactions with Charlie are limited; usually occurring when she happens to venture through town for one reason or another and almost always just in passing, he is always friendly. They always have a decent enough chat. She definitely prefers his company to her other nurses and is one of the few simple, honest humans she’s met. 

He sits at one of the tables against the wall, keeping to himself and his company - a Native American man with long dark hair seated in a wheelchair across from him. Ariel isn’t sure who the other man is and almost hesitates on going to say hello since she has company of her own, but she stands and makes a gesture toward Charlie. 

“If it’s alright with you, Carlisle, I think our town sheriff over there needs to see another friendly face before the nurses scare him off.”

Carlisle raises a brow at her interest in Charlie; while he’s mentioned Charlie in passing, he didn’t even know that she knew of the town sheriff personally enough to feel the need to say hello. Carlisle hesitates, eyeing Charlie’s company with uncertainty before joining her. 

As they approach Charlie’s table, Charlie notices them immediately. His eyes lighting up at more friendly faces, grinning as he raises his glass to them. His company, however, almost makes Carlisle flinch at the intense, understanding glare in his eyes. Billy Black focuses most of his attention on the doctor, but looks to Ariel with careful, cautious curiosity. The side look that she gives Carlisle lets him know that the hostility isn’t unnoticed by her.

Ariel puts on her best face - the charming, enthralling smile that she learned very quickly while staying with Lucifer. The energy that she usually keeps a tight lid on, the exception being her moments of emotional weakness, the same energy that sits in the chest of all angels, the heavenly presence that only one of God’s can produce. That peace that makes others calm in their presence, knowing that everything is okay. Amenadiel was always the best at controlling, being the messenger it came in handy so that humans stayed calm when confronting with divinity while Lucifer never felt the need to control it, always enthralling and charming the wits off people.

But as the change in energy washes over them, the tension starts to ease. She can see Charlie’s friend lose the tension in his shoulders and she hopes that it’s enough to prevent whatever may have happened otherwise.

“I have to admit, Sherriff, I didn’t expect this to be your usual choice,” Ariel’s eyes beam.

If she notices Carlisle’s curious look, she doesn’t acknowledge it. He watches her closely, noticing the change between everyone as she speaks. She seems to glow under the lowlight of the bar, radiating with an undeniable charm. He’s felt it before - noticed it before - in the small moments where her emotions had gotten the better of her at the hospital. Felt its counterpart when her anger was directed at him before her brother had visited. 

Comparing it to Jasper’s ability feels - similar - but not quite there. It’s too different. Foreign. Intense. Something different than just emotion, as if she’s able to really reach something deep inside of their chests that they didn’t even know they had. 

Charlie flushes slightly, his chest warming at the sudden emotion of peace that rolls over him. He hesitates slightly, glancing between Carlisle and Ariel with curious, questioning eyes. 

“Billy and I have come to a decision that we have to at least try something new every now and then to keep us on our toes.” He nods in Billy’s direction, “Jacob is the one who suggested this place - apparently a lot of the kids come here for the darts and karaoke.”

“We should have known better than to take a suggestion from a teenager,” Billy adds in, his eyes never leaving the pair as he offers a stiff hand to Ariel. “Billy Black.”

“Ariel Sera,” Ariel returns the handshake firmly. The warmth of her skin makes him pause, looking at her curiously before they part.

“Ariel Sera,” Billy repeats, “I’ve heard some chatter about someone new in town a while back. I hope that some of that attention has died down by now, Miss Sera. If you’re not used to small towns, it can take you off guard when these boys will try to hit up any new pretty face.”

Billy gives a pointed look to Charlie, “-Or a certain sheriff.”

Ariel glances at Charlie teasingly, looking at him with a raised brow. Charlie’s flush deepens as he waves off Billy’s comment with half-assed excuses that make the both of them share a laugh. The comment makes Carlisle frown slightly, but knowing the banter between the two of them is common and often not sincere, he forces a friendly face.

* * *

  
  


It takes a while before they go back to their own table with fresh drinks and at Ariel’s request, some bar food. Charlie and Billy had to leave fairly fast, the hustle and bustle of the patrons becoming a bit too overwhelming; considering that Charlie seemed sober enough to walk straight, no one commented on the fact that he was the one driving back. Even their coworkers have begun to disperse, only a few staying behind for heavier drinks likely due to a lack of a shift tomorrow.

“Just out of curiosity,” Carlisle asks, “How high is your tolerance?”

_Does alcohol even affect you,_ Ariel reads between the lines and the careful tone in his voice. She takes a sip of the drink. 

“I’m practically unaffected by liquor,” Ariel’s eyes twinkle, “But I’ve come to enjoy the taste - I usually stick to the old-fashioned classics, but my little brother - the nightclub owner in LA - expanded by palette quite a bit.”

“Interesting,” Carlisle hums and Ariel winks as she takes a few sips of his drink before placing it back in front of him. 

“What about you,” Ariel asks curiously, “ _Before you become a doctor_?”

Carlisle leans back in the chair, looking around cautiously. Their coworkers are content near the stage, hollering and drinking and perfectly fine ignoring their presence while the rest of the patrons are scattered out away from them. Their table is the furthest from everyone and it brings him enough comfort to answer. 

“I - My Father was a priest,” Carlisle slowly answers, a far off look in his eyes, “Liquor wasn’t something that anyone within the church partook in, especially with my father’s harsh and strict teachings.”

He hesitates for a moment before continuing with sincerity and honesty, his voice soft. 

“I followed in his footsteps for a long time. - but after - after this happened, I have to admit that I’m not sure where my faith lies.”

Her tongue rolls over her bottom lip as she swallows thickly at his words, her chest feeling a bit tight. The uncertainty of his faith explains why the intrigue of what she is; priests, genuine believers with good hearts, have always been able to tell. She knows Carlisle has a good heart, but a shaky belief and the disownership of the title of a man of God - a _former_ priest being different than a _current_ one - would hinder that knowing that tends to reach into someone’s heart. 

But it creates an uneasiness under her skin; a part of her wondering if that is where his interest in her came from. That need to know, the need for answers. 

“I’ve never been a fan of people’s suffering. Priests are made to help people so I choose to follow a similar route that allows me to help others.”

The raw honesty creates a somber silence between the two, Ariel finishing her drink immediately afterward as she mulls over his answer, not expecting the heartfelt response. When she finally thinks of something to say - something to let him know that she understands - she decides otherwise and looks over the patrons of the bar instead.

“What do you say we get away?”

Ariel’s question gets his rapt attention as he raises a brow toward her. She ignores the look of confusion and intrigue, standing up as she finishes his drink for him; crinkling her nose and almost commenting on the fact that for someone who wasn’t planning to drink, he definitely ordered one of the stronger ones.

“Get away,” he presses and this time, she turns to him.

“All of our coworkers are completely content without us or are already gone. And to be honest, I don’t think this is either of our…. _Forte.”_

Carlisle stands with a soft smile of understanding, noticing the almost itchy look in her eyes and uncomfortable stance; while she’s trying to dance around it, she isn’t doing a fantastic job at hiding the fact that she wants to get away.

“Tell me, do you have anywhere in mind that you’d like us to go or would you simply like me to drop you off?”

Ariel mouths his name on her lips with soft eyes before she continues, “I have an idea.”

“Then please, do lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another chapter. Please let me know what you think! I tried to explain a little bit more of the idea of Ariel's presence, her energy. I feel like it makes sense since in the show, most of the people who meet either Lucifer or Amenadiel are immediately charmed by them or are more likely to listen to them.
> 
> As for poor Charlie, as Lucifer once said 'the simpler the mind, the easier it is.' Charlie isn't stupid, not by any means, but he is simple (in a very good, honest way). He is very content with simple answers and doesn't look for trouble or question things that don't need to be questioned. So I feel like he would be effected more by Ariel's energy (as seen in the previous chapter when she got her birds).


	12. The Getaway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan to update again so soon after the last update, but I got really caught up writing this ~

As they exit the bar, Ariel makes a beeline for the driver seat and after a glance toward Carlisle, he gets the message and tosses her the keys as they slip into the vehicle. If not for their conversation about alcohol tolerance, he may not have offered the keys up so easily.

Curiosity gleams in his eyes as she starts the car as he wonders what she is planning and if, to a degree, he should be worried.

“Most of the people in town know your car,” Ariel explains as she backs out a bit too fast and pulls out onto the highway, “If they saw your car here but no doctor, it may have caused some questions. Otherwise, we probably could have walked and been just fine.”

“ _ Probably,” _ Carlisle asks, raising a brow. Her wording suggests that she may know something about the speed of vampires, but the hesitation makes him uncertain. 

Ariel gives a small shrug, glancing at him through the corner of her eyes, “Can’t account for everything, now can we?”

He supposes he can’t really argue with that, but at least it infers that she  _ does _ know exactly how fast vampires are. He sits back for a moment and watches her. He’s seen her come into the hospital on her motorcycle, but her driving now seems a bit more uncomfortable, uncertain. A few times the car jerks and she mumbles curses under her breath. 

“Should I have my insurance information ready,” Carlisle asks with amusement.

To his delight, she flushes a deep shade of pink, huffing slightly with a sheepish look on her face.

“I’m used to my bike, cars are just -  _ different. _ Always hated them and I’m afraid my skills are a bit rusty. I promise that I have no intention to crash your car.”

Her grip on the steering wheel is tight enough that her knuckles are starting to turn white. Carlisle’s lips turn into a soft, small smile at her obvious frustration and the flustered expression on her face. 

“That brings little comfort.”

The car lurches suddenly and harshly as she’s forced to harshly hit the brakes as a car swerves in front of her - the driver of the other vehicle doesn’t hesitate, speeding away with squealing tires. The momentum should have sent Ariel forward, at least enough to force the seatbelt to stop her and maybe hit the steering wheel. But when she doesn’t, she looks down with furrowed brows. 

A strong arm is stretched out in front of her, pressing against her chest.

Her eyes go to Carlisle, who is looking intensely at the horizon as if he has any hopes of catching the other driver. He twitches and looks to her when the sound of a rapid heartbeat cuts through the tense silence. Ariel glances toward his arm with a questioning look, a light pink dusting her cheeks. A bit flustered, Carlisle immediately removes his arm as she pulls over to the side.

“I - I think it’s best that we switch spots and I - I’ll just give you directions.”

* * *

  
  


At Ariel’s hesitant direction and Carlisle’s better driving, they arrive at the destination faster and  _ smoother. _ Carlisle parks at the parking lot in front of one of the entrances into the forest - not the most popular hiking spots, but one of the many that Forks has. 

“Did you eat,” Ariel glances at him over her shoulder as she starts to head toward the entrance, “I wouldn’t mind if you had to hunt before we continue.”

It’s a small gesture, but a thoughtful one that makes Carlisle nod in appreciation before he confirms that he hunted before he headed out to the bar. Ariel nods and takes a deep breath, soaking in the fresh air from the woodland. 

“Think you can keep up with me,” Ariel’s eyes twinkle as she gives him a sideway glance that makes him grin, a warmth spreading through his chest.

“I suppose we’ll find out.”

It takes Carlisle by surprise. The way that suddenly she’s there - smiling at him, glowing with a brilliant beautiful radiance silhouetted by the night sky and the treeline. The next, she’s already taken off and he’s forced to act quickly to at least catch up to her. It takes longer than it should have to at least finally see her nearly dancing her way through the forest with a grace and natural precision as if she knows each branch, each tree. 

The closest it reminds him of is Edward - who has always been the fastest of the coven. But unlike Edward, she doesn’t have to focus so intensely on her movements, in fact she looks rather carefree by playfully running backward, just to watch Carlisle behind her. All without missing a beat.

He’s still dragging behind her and when she meets his wide eyes with a fleeting grin before she slows down enough for them to match pace. 

“Careful, Carlisle, you’ll catch debris with your jaw dropped like that.”

He gets the undoubted feeling that she is teasing him - poking fun at him just to see his reaction. He hates to disappoint. 

“Most races start with a countdown,” Carlisle points out as he joins her side, 

Ariel’s laugh sounds like a melody, chiming through the air with joy. “I never pegged you for a sore loser, Carlisle. The nurses would be disappointed.”

Carlisle grins, continuing to follow her lead as she guides them deeper into the forest. He keeps careful track of where they are - how far the border is, but thankfully, if he’s right, they’re on the opposite side of Forks from the reservation. Plenty of space in between them and the treaty line. 

Still, Ariel is definitely not leading them on any hiking trail, venturing far from them and into the dense woods that most humans wouldn’t venture into, especially at night. While he isn’t worried about himself, knowing that the wild animal that they cross will be something that he can handle, he wonders just how far do the similarities between Ariel - her kind - and the coven run. How indestructible are they? Does she worry about the wild animals or is she strong enough to take care of any issues?

She finally stops at a clearing. Thick trees and flora surround half of it while the other half is against a rocky cliff. Unlike some of the fields in Forks, the clearing’s grass is taller with stray wildflowers on uneven ground. When he listens closely, he can hear the trickling of a nearby stream. It has a wild-look to it, unkept and untouched while still being beautiful.

  
His eyes fall on Ariel.  _ Beautiful.  _ Her eyes are glowing with joy, looking at peace in her surroundings as she ushers Carlisle to join her near the rocky cliff side. The bottom of the cliff has flat rocky foundation - the one even ground in the clearing. She seems unbothered as she sits on the flat rock, resting her back against the cliff. 

“I found this spot a while back ago,” Ariel finally speaks up, softly as Carlisle hesitantly sits beside her, stiffly with a good foot between them. “I think it’s a good place to relax. I get -  _ tired _ sometimes. I’ve - I’ve spent most of my existence in the forest. My siblings all stayed home or found somewhere to go and nature - nature was my place to go.”

She closes her eyes as she rests her head against the cliff side. As her voice turns sincere and soft, Carlisle watches her carefully, processing every bit of information she gives him. The idea that she’s spent a seemingly long time in nature doesn’t surprise him, it oddly suits her and explains much of her behavior. Why every time he passes her house, she’s outside. All the flora she tends to with the tenderness of a mother. 

He remembers a fleeting conversation, the mention of her only meeting up her brothers a few years back. He wonders just how long before that she spent in the woods.  _ Alone.  _

“The bar - it all gets a bit too much for my tastes,” Ariel admits, “I’m still new to all of this. Being around people. Doing the right thing.”

He doesn’t ask her what wrong things she has done and she appreciates it. He doesn’t have to ask - a part of him knows. He’s seen it with his coven - with Jasper especially. The struggle to do the right thing. A part of him knows that her wrong things were driven by the wrong reasons - not hunger, a need for survival, but by hatred. He’s seen it in her eyes at the hospital, as much as she’s tried to hide it and swallow it down. 

He wonders what drove her to do the right thing now, but admires the difficult choice she’s making to change.

“I think that’s why I admire you so much, Carlisle.”

The confession makes what he thinks would be his heart stop, swallowing thickly as he pauses, waiting for her to continue. She opens her eyes just enough to spare him a fleeting glance. 

“You can do it so effortlessly, being with humans, I mean. You never break. I’ve never even seen you lose your patience once. It’s - it’s incredible, Carlisle. Honestly. I - I wish I had the patience that you do.”

Somewhere during that conversation the distance between them had closed. He finds himself against her shoulder and she doesn’t hesitate to lean against him. Something about the way she does it so naturally and the way that it warms him makes him feel flushed, despite the knowledge that vampires don’t blush. He doesn’t move away. 

“You mentioned, back at the bar, about wanting to help people,” Ariel’s voice is a soft whisper. He can feel her breath against his skin. “I - I can’t imagine being such a good person that’s the first thing you do after becoming a vampire, even though you have nothing to make up for. No blood directly on your hands.”

She glances at her palms as she rests her hands on her knees. He offhandedly notices that the wounds on her hands have already healed, but it’s a passing fleeting thought in the back of his mind as he watches her flex her hands. He wonders just how much blood she sees on her palms.

“I have blood on my hands, Carlisle. Took lives that didn’t deserve to be taken. Took lives that, at the time, I thought they did. Years of it.  _ Centuries.  _ I thought that humans didn’t deserve the things that they have blessed with, that they took everything for granted. I thought my only purpose was the plants - being here to protect the nature that’s been neglected by them.”

He processes each statement one at a time, thinking it over as he nods, never speaking as she starts to admit things that he doesn’t think she’s fully admitted to herself before. He wonders how old she is? Centuries? Is she older than him? Younger? Somewhere in the middle? He doesn’t understand the compulsion she had to protect nature, but if she saw that as her home - or as her gift to them, a gift that they destroy, tear down, he can understand her frustration, as misguided as it was. It brings up even more questions that he knows he won’t get his answers for yet. But it’s like getting all the final edge pieces to the puzzle without knowing the full picture. 

The hatred that seeps in her voice doesn’t seem aimed at anyone other than herself and it makes his chest constrict - the knowledge that the similarities are going farther than he expected.

“You’ve been doing this for centuries, Carlisle. I’ve been doing it for four years,” Ariel continues, her voice cracking slightly, becoming more breathy as she struggles to find the words. “ _ Does - does it ever go away _ ?”

Carlisle hesitates, seeing the gleam in her eyes and the hints of tears in the corners of her eyes. He understands why she brought him here. His chest constricts, parts of Alice’s vision swirling in his mind in an odd sense of understanding.  _ Acceptance.  _ The knowledge that they are two sides of the same coin.  _ Parallel.  _

His arm finds its way around her and she rests her head on his shoulder as he rubs comforting circles against her back. The raw intensity of her emotions hits him hard and deeply. When his fingertips brush against the skin exposed on her back, it feels electric. He hesitates as he feels her stiffen, before he finally presses his hand down fully against the skin on her back, running his knuckles on the muscles of her shoulders to ease her tension. She relaxes into the touch, pressing her back into his palm.

“Some of the others haven’t always been vegetarians,” Carlisle admits softly, “And they may have a better understanding of it than I do, but I -  _ No.  _ It doesn’t. That self-hatred, the guilt, the shame. It never goes away, not really. But it does get better - lighter.  _ Smaller. _ As long as we continue to move forward and do the best that we can, it will always get better.”

The soft sincerity, the unfamiliar, but welcomed intimacy that starts to form between them make them both speechless before Ariel finally speaks up, looking up at Carlisle with intense, emotionally open eyes. 

“Thank you,  _ Carlisle.”  _

He swallows thickly. The hand pressed on her back, on the space of skin exposed on the back of her shirt, starts to slip just under the hem. His muscles stiffen as it becomes more difficult to control. Everything is always more intense as a vampire - from everything you hear and see and smell to everything you feel.  _ Emotions _ are never soft, subtle or slow. It is always  _ intense. Burning. _

The urge to accept this - this emotional tension that is forming in the air around them - grows stronger. Her eyes are hooded as they gaze into his and he doesn’t miss the way she flickers to his lips. The distance between them starts to dangerously close as he feels her breath against his neck. Against his lips. His hand finds her waist under her shirt and he grips her tightly, not wanting to let her go, but the touch of her lips against his is brief - soft, gentle, emotional and unsure. 

She parts away from him too soon and suddenly, her lips leave him slowly. Her nose barely brushes against his and they stay there for a moment. Foreheads pressed to each other. Lips so close, yet too far apart. Her eyes look at him confused, hesitant, but she doesn’t leave him - she doesn’t run away. 

“ _ Ariel,” _ Carlisle’s voice makes shivers run down her spine, “If we continue this - you have to know that vampires are different -”

“-I know,” Ariel whispers, her eyes closing as she rests her forehead against his. “ _ I know, Carlisle.  _ Anything you have to tell me, I know. The Volturi - strength, how intense everything is. I just need to know one thing.”

Her knowledge surprises him, but he stays silent, mouthing his only question softly.  _ What do you need to know? _ Ariel’s tongue licks her bottom lip as she hesitates. He can hear the way her heart beats against her chest. Her hand goes to his cheek and he leans into the sensation of her palm against his skin.

_ “Is this okay?” _

She doesn’t need to explain what she means, he already knows. He gives a soft, breathless answer.  _ Yes.  _ Before he’s caught up in another kiss, one that lacks the hesitation. Her lips press against his with emotional intensity,  _ passion,  _ force. He returns it with vigour. As his hand dips into her hip, he notices that she doesn’t protest his strength nor does it seem to hurt her. The idea of where they can go - the idea that he doesn’t have to hold back - makes him stir. 

The vampire inside of him - that monster that claws at his chest -  _ yearns  _ for more. But she parts away again, breathless, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Despite the want in her eyes, she pauses. 

“I suppose we should be getting back,” Ariel softly suggests, despite the way her eyes have yet to leave his lips. 

“Yes, I suppose that would be the smart thing to do wouldn’t it?”

Neither of them move from each other, his hand is still on her hip despite the way his grip has softened. He still thinks about the taste of her lips. She still feels the electricity against her skin from his palm.

“Carlisle,” Ariel speaks up softly, her eyes twinkling as she smiles, “I really think we need to go.”

“Yes, we do,” Carlisle mumbles in agreement, resting his head against her shoulder as he pulls her closer. He feels the vibrations of her soft laughter before she gently pulls away, giving him a brief kiss to the cheek, a wink, and then she’s gone and he’s left holding onto thin air. 

_ She’s rigged the race - she’s faster than she was a moment ago, _ Carlisle thinks briefly before he sighs deeply, standing up as he readies himself. When he doesn’t find her waiting for him in the car, he figures that she must have gone home. He feels too light headed to think about it too hard, his head still weightless in the clouds.

By the time he gets home, his phone vibrates.

_ From Ariel _

_ I enjoyed our time together, Carlisle  _

He didn’t expect her to use emojis of all things, her message followed by a series of hearts and winky faces, but he knows by now that everything she does is unexpected.  _ New.  _ He smiles as he enters the house, with Rosalie looking at him with curious, knowing eyes and a sigh. Emmett whistles at him, recognizing the dark look in his eyes. 

Carlisle barely notices. The night replays over in his mind, carelessly, welcomingly, as he thinks about the way she felt against him - the connection that he started to feel. How far he, almost selfishly, wanted that connection to go tonight despite knowing how unreasonable that is of him to want to go that fast. 

He does, however, hear the sputtering, choking noises of Edward from the next room over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't plan for this to go this way so soon but here we are. The question is - what will they do next now that they have gone this far and is there any chance of going back?


	13. Solicited Advice

She smiles against the tip of her fingers as they graze against her bottom lip, her other hand slipping her phone back into the pocket of her jeans. Her face feels warm as she feels different.  _ Lighter. Happier.  _ Her chest feels warm and fuzzy, like someone set off firecrackers. Her skin still tingles from his palms and she relishes in the memory of it. 

She knows where it was heading - what could have happened if she didn’t stop things and the idea of it excites her. She can feel her heart beating a mile a minute against her chest as her lungs feel breathless. She didn’t expect it -  _ expect him -  _ to make her feel this way, but she’s not against it either, quite the opposite actually.

But she stopped him. At least for now. Vampires, as she knows, are intense. They don’t do anything halfway nor is there any emotion that they feel minor. Like most creatures in the wild and the rumors of wolves, they have one mate.  _ One. _ For the rest of their existence. An idea that makes her rumble with excitement and fear. She imagines that there are very few that are the expectation to that rule, not to mention any outlier singers, but a majority of vampires - vampires like Carlisle - are faithful. 

She knows that Carlisle would never force her into anything. She is the one who has encouraged it and it had become very apparent, very fast into her friendship with him that he would never do anything without being sure. She imagines that should they nurse their friendship into something more, that Carlisle would go as slow or as fast as she wanted, provided that he was comfortable as well. 

But no matter the speed that they take things, she knows the endgame. She knows where it will end and she is accepting that at one point, they are bound to be mates should they continue forward. Oddly enough, the idea of it, while scary in its own right, isn’t scary in a negative way. 

It does mean that she has some stones to turn over before she continues. Things that need to be said - to both her family and to Carlisle himself.

She takes a deep breath and rolls her shoulders as she heads onto her back porch. Her birds follow her, landing on her shoulder with curious little pecks and coos. She scratches them under their chins with love before gently telling them to go back inside. As they fly back in, she decides to fly herself. Seeing no signs of the Cullens, she lets her wings unfurl from behind her with a  _ swoosh. _

* * *

The large appendages stretch out behind her with relief and mild ache, having been used for so long. Long feathers graze against her skin and she relishes in the freedom that it brings her before she takes off. 

  
  


Mazikeen notices her first - sticking out like a sore thumb as she enters the nightclub. Her eyes glance over Ariel’s outfit with minor appreciation, noting the change in her gait and the flush on her cheeks. With realization, a Cheshire grin spreads across her face.

“What are you grinning at?”

Eve sits down comfortably beside Maze, drinks in hand. Maze’s arm naturally falls around her shoulders. Her eyes look around the nightclub curiously, but no one immediately catches her attention. Maze gently nudges her and nods in Ariel’s direction. Eve follows her eyes and then spots the familiar face. She lights up and waves eagerly. 

“ARIEL! Ariel, we’re over here!”

Regrettably, Ariel recognizes the voice and turns to see Eve and Maze watching her - one with noticeably more excitement and the other with a dangerously sharp knowing grin. Ariel debates for a moment but at Eve’s constant prodding, gives in reluctantly.

Ariel gives a brief nod of greeting to Mazikeen and a forced friendly greeting to Eve through a tense jaw. 

“Mazikeen. Eve. Is Lucifer here?”

Eve crinkles her nose at the mention of Lucifer, a bit of lingering bitterness in the back of her throat before she shakes her head with a shrug, unsure of his whereabouts. 

“Upstairs.” Maze states simply, but the gleam in her eye makes Ariel shift on her feet, feeling oddly exposed as if Maze is seeing right through her. 

Ariel gives her a nod of thanks and starts to head in that direction, thankful to keep their conversation brief. But she doesn’t manage to get very far before Mazikeen’s voice calls out clearly through the crowd and over the music.

_ “You had sex!” _

Ariel flinches at the eyes and attention that the comment brings them, but is thankful that it does not last long among the drunk late night crowd. She turns on her heels, face flushed as she groans at the realization that she is going to be dragged into this conversation with Maze and Eve of all beings. 

She was really hoping that she’d be able to talk to Lucifer - maybe even Amenadiel - first.

Eve squeals, her eyes lighting up as she looks at Ariel expectantly, “Wait, really!? Who with? How many?”

“I didn’t have sex,” Ariel hisses, but Maze just hums with a knowing smile, “ _ We didn’t.” _

“We?”

Lucifer’s voice rings curiously and Ariel spots her brother making his way toward them with a cocked brow. 

“Who is  _ we _ and why  _ didn’t  _ you have sex?”

* * *

  
  


Lucifer starts pouring them drinks the moment that they reach upstairs. Ariel accepts the drink that is offered to her and they raise their glasses to each other before downing the alcoholic beverage. Lucifer immediately starts pouring them a second round, but instead of downing it she nurses it slowly with the knowledge that their conversation is going to be a long one.

“Vampires.” Lucifer hums thoughtfully, “I always wondered what happened to them. Used to be more rampant and when I didn’t see anymore when I came back, I just figured that they died off. Don’t know a lot about them though, I’m afraid. The bloke I slept with wasn’t too keen on sharing any details.”

“Did you sleep with this doctor fellow yet,” Lucifer turns to her curiously as he starts on his drink, “I have to say that vampires are definitely some of the more  _ rambunctious  _ ones in the sack.”

Amenadiel’s entrance, like most of the times that he seems to appear in her life, is sudden, unwarranted and slightly unwanted. She knows that she has Maze to thank for his appearance - she has no doubts that the demon texted him the gossip the moment that her and Lucy turned their backs. To be honest, she’s only slightly surprised that it took him this long to get here.

“What did you do,” Amenadiel’s voice is booming as he storms into the room as Ariel leans back in her spot at the bar with a belated groan, “Maze texted me that you had sex with someone and now all I’m hearing is you and Lucy talking about Dr. Cullen.”

“Ah, so you did have sex with him,” Lucifer’s voice rings with a gleam. 

“I did  _ not,” _ Ariel insists, the frustration of the accusations ringing in her voice. “For someone’s sake, _ we only kissed _ !”

Lucifer mumbles a soft  _ pity _ against the edge of his glass, but Ariel can see the vein throbbing on Amenadiel’s forehead as he takes a deep breath, sitting down beside them at the bar. When Lucifer hands out a bottle to him, he declines it. Hesitantly, Ariel continues softly, biting at her bottom lip.

“- But I did want to.”

Amenadiel snatches the bottle and Lucifer scoffs as he mumbles about how if she wanted to do, she should have, and if he didn’t want to, then he’s a coward that’s ‘intimidated’ by her. 

“That’s actually why I’m here,” Ariel continues with more confidence. 

“Well if you need sex advide, then you should have said so from the beginning,” Lucifer’s voice lights up with encouragement, “I gave you that nice room to use, but I know some of the things in are a bit intimidating at first and you should always go at your own comfort level because believe me you don’t want to start off by just shoving -”

“-I know sex, Lucy,” Ariel cuts him off curtly before he can finish the sentence, “I’ve had sex before, just not particularly often. I’m not here about the sex, I’m here because if I continue a relationship with Carlisle, and I would very much like to, then there is a high possibility of us becoming mates in the future. Vampires are very - old fashioned, you could say.”

“-And I’m not against the idea of Carlisle and I becoming mates - real partners for however long he may be graced to live - whether that happens now or in the far future. But it’s not fair to do so without Carlisle knowing what I am - what  _ we _ are.”

‘

There’s a brief silence as they process her words. Lucifer takes down a whole bottle at the implication of being mated for life - while he is very lucky to be with Chloe, the idea of his older sister doing such a thing is so foreign that it is hard to understand. Dare he admit it, a small bit of jealousy builds in his chest at the idea that she can simply be with someone so easily, so straightforwardly, and that they could be together for such a long time. He doesn’t remember how long vampires last - but he knows that they don’t simply go very easily.

But the look in her eyes eases his worry, knowing the feeling of fear of rejection from the one you desire. It seems like his older sister has done some soul-searching and growing in her time away in a way that he couldn’t imagine. He has to admit - a part of him is a bit proud at the smallest possibility of her finding the same type of connection that he has with Chloe.  _ She deserves that much. _

Amenadiel is the quietest, taking a long swig of the bottle with furrowed brows and minor disgust as he realizes the emotion in Ariel’s voice - the sincerity, the caring, the love. His mixed feelings over the vampire stir in his chest, but the last argument that they had is still fresh in his mind. He isn’t sure what happened in the short period of time since he left. A small flash of what  _ could _ have happened makes him flinch in disgust as he takes another swig, swallowing that imagery down as he admits that he doesn’t  _ want  _ to know what happened.

“You want to tell him you're an angel,” Amenadiel summarizes, “And you - what? Don’t know how to do it? Needed permission?”

“Maybe a bit of both.” Uncertainty drops from her voice as she fluffs her hair and takes a drink. “Carlisle may not be mortal now, but he used to be. And you two are the only ones that have come out to mortals.”

“Well, you’re asking the wrong devil,” Lucifer takes a longer drink, “None of mine took it too well at first.” 

Ariel looks to Amenadiel, almost silently pleading for an easy answer. He takes a moment before he speaks up.

“Do you really care about him?” At Ariel nod, he continues, “Then all I can say is good luck. Have faith that it will end well and if it doesn’t, we’ll take care of it. It won’t be the first mess we’ve had to clean up.”

“We have made a lot of messes, haven’t we,” Lucifer muses, “Not that it particularly matters considering it’s all said and done, still wish that it didn’t have to come to it with Uriel, I’ll admit.”

Ariel pauses, her brows furrowed in confusion and it takes a second too long before both Amenadiel and Lucifer realize the mistake as she speaks up.

“Wait -  _ what about Uriel?” _

* * *

  
  


The next morning, Carlisle doesn’t see Ariel on her porch. It’s an unusual change in their routine, but not necessarily a worrying one. But then he doesn’t see her at work either and Carlisle starts to get worried. All he can think about is what happened last night, his skin tingling at the memory as he thinks about the way she tasted. The longer the day goes by without seeing her, the more the guilt bubbles under his skin as he wonders if they went too far. Did they expose too much? Does she regret it? Does she regret opening up to him or for how far that they went?

Did she only just realize just what it would mean to be entangled with a vampire and decide that she shouldn’t?

The day blurs around him as he works on auto-pilot, focusing so intently on his work that nothing else stands out to him. He still finds himself at their usual spot during his break, just as he finds himself periodically checking his phone as if it is going to light up with a message and emojis. When it doesn’t, he wonders if he should text or call her. Just to check on her. Make sure that she’s okay.

As his shift officially starts to come to an end, he’s really starting to doubt that he will hear from her. He can already see the darkened skies of night rolling in through the windows.

“I’m sure she’ll call you soon,” Alice’s voice rings in from behind him. 

He puts the phone back into his pocket and greets Alice with a slightly apprehensive smile. She gives him a knowing smile with a far-off look in her eyes and it eases the tension in his shoulders with the realization that Alice is so sure because she  _ knows. _ He wishes that she could be more straight-forward sometimes, but he’ll take what he can. 

“You don’t suppose she’s upset, do you,” Carlisle can’t help but ask with hopeful eyes. 

  
“I don’t think so, have a little faith, Carlisle. I’m more sure than ever that my vision is going to come true and I can’t wait until the rest of the coven officially meets her.”

Carlisle smiles softly; if Alice is so sure, he’ll trust her instinct even if he doesn’t necessarily trust his own. When she’s so sure of a vision coming true, it’s hard to deny her. 

“Oh, I think you should answer that~”

Alice points to the pocket where his phone is with a knowing grin before she disappears as quick as she appeared. He looks after her with confusion before he feels the vibrations of his phone, pulling it out with furrowed brows.

_ Incoming Call - Ariel  _


	14. Comfort and Underthings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a reminder - in Lucifer, during the Uriel arc, Lucifer explained that any being (Angel or otherwise) killed with Azreal's blade will not just kill an angel, that if they're killed with that blade, there is no heaven, no hell. They're gone-gone. 
> 
> During this time, it is also explained that only weapons made in heaven or hell can hurt an angel, but it is Azreal's blade specifically that just wipes out their existence entirely. Because of that detail, I like to think that it is possible for angels to lose their 'physical body' or to be severely injured (but just like vampires, it is just really hard and need hell-made or celestial-made weapons to do it), but that they would simply re-manifest in heaven and could theoretically come back down to Earth.

_ Carlisle, I need you. Please. _

Carlisle rushes to her house the moment that he ends the call - his eyes glistening with worry as her distraught voice still rings in his ears. He knows that type of voice - that tone of breaking, the way your voice shifts when your heart shatters into a million pieces and you scream at the sky. Her voice was slurred with hiccups as she struggled to breathe properly to talk, making their conversation short and vague. 

All he knew was that she needed him to get to her house; that she begged him to come help her. Something that makes his heart drop as a rock settles in his gut. It makes him worried about what he is going to be walking into - but he prepares for the worst, braces himself for any fight and it does not stop him from entering her house without hesitation.

The moment that he swings open the door, her birds coo at him frantically as they fly in distress around the ceiling. His eyes dart around for any sign of her, taking in the broken pieces of furniture and the large holes going straight through the concrete wall. He finally spots her in the midst of the chaos, slumped down against the wall near one of the holes, still in the outfit from the day before.

He approaches her immediately, but carefully as if he’s scared that he will frighten her away. Her hair lacks its usual life and luster, creating a mess of tangles and shadows that hide her face from view as she tucks her knees to her chest. 

_ “Ariel.”  _

Carlisle’s voice breaks through the tense silence as he is immediately at her side, kneeling down on his knee to check her over. His voice makes her stir, but her lack of energy is immediately apparent. He still is not sure if there was some type of fight or struggle or if she did this herself, but either way she must be exhausted.

His doctor instincts kick in first, checking for obvious injuries as the back of his hand goes to her forehead to check for a fever. When there is none, his hand grazes against her cheek as he brushes her hair out of her face. His eyes gleam with concern as she hesitantly looks up at him, her eyes glistening and her cheeks stained with past tears.

He takes her into a tight embrace without thinking, his arms wrapping around her waist. She leans into it and when her arms return the embrace, she squeezes him tightly with soft mumbles that are too incoherent to understand. He holds for her as long as it takes, whispering soft reassurances and rubbing circles on her back until she calms down enough to speak. 

“I never really visit with my family,” Ariel admits, her voice raspy and barely audible even for him, “I - I haven’t always been the best with keeping touch and to be honest, none of them are either. Lucy and Delia are the only ones I ever really see anymore, but -”

“-But when we were younger and we were all at home,” she continues hesitantly, “I loved all of my siblings, even if we never got along, even though some of them could be cruel and mean. As kids, everyone picked on little Urie. He was - different from everyone else. Always a bit off.”

Carlisle can feel his throat begin to close, a bitter knowing feeling growing in his chest as he begins to understand where this conversation is going. He doesn’t stop her, nor rush her, merely settling down beside her to listen. She leans on his shoulder with a faraway gleam in her eyes and he chooses to focus on the glistening swirls of yellows and gold instead of the way his heart aches for her. He can feel the pain powering from her in intense, raw waves that would make him cry if he were able. 

“-I always tried to include him,” Ariel licks at her bottom lip as she rests her head back, closing her eyes and Carlisle focuses on the way her heart beats slowly as it returns to normal. “But Urie had a very black and white way of seeing the world. He was never good at understanding how complex love can be so in his eyes, because I loved the ones that picked on him, I must’ve not loved him.”

The conversation feels like an open wound - a raw, exposed nerve that is dangerous to touch, dangerous to fix. It leaves a strange static energy in the air, full of tension and emotion that makes a part of Carlisle wonder if it can be fixed and if it is even his place to do so. The other part feels selfish for thinking that her disappearance had anything to do with what they did together - for what he did.

But the fact that he’s the one she calls - that she is the one who goes to him for comfort, for reassurance, brings him confidence that he is doing that the right thing in pursuing this. Pursuing  _ her. _

“I left home not too long after,” Ariel breathes in through her nose and out slowly through her mouth as she focuses on the way Carlisle’s palm rests on her, “Lucy did too. I never went back. Never got a chance to say goodbye or apologize. Urie -  _ Urie _ did some bad things, I don’t blame anyone else for what happened to him. But I can’t help but think that if I stayed home with him or I got back in touch sooner, then I could have stopped it.”

But she does blame herself. Carlisle can see it in her eyes when she glances up at him, her eyes wide with guilt. He’s seen that look before, when he arrives too late. When he debates if he can or should change someone. When he wonders what he could have done - what he should have done. His fingers dip into her shoulder tightly as he squeezes her - harder than he intended to, but when she doesn’t complain nor does anything break, he swallows thickly and loosens his grip.

While there are a million things he could have said, he thinks back to his faith and falls back on the traditional saying for someone grieving.

“I’m sure that he’s in a better place,” Carlisle says simply, but sincerely. 

Ariel’s voice turns bittersweet with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. Something about her expression, her tone of voice shifts into something almost unreadable - as if she knows something that he doesn’t, as if there is so much more to the story that she simply can’t say. 

_ “If only it was that simple.” _

  
  


* * *

Carlisle stays to help her repair the damage that she did to the house’s walls and furniture despite her insistence that she could do it herself. He even pays for the supplies needed, making a quick trip to town as she cleans herself up before getting started. 

She appreciates the distance and the help; she knows that he takes longer than he needed to give her space, time to wrap her loose threads together, but even as she catches glimpses of herself in a shattered mirror - a mirror that she doesn’t even remember breaking - she can’t help but just simply feel  _ tangled _ in those loose threads. 

She was so blind with rage and hurt that coming home to break everything she could seemed like the better option. Better than going off on Lucy - she couldn’t bring herself to yell at him, hit him, or even fight him. She wanted to be mad at him directly, but she was almost mad at herself for not being mad at him; she understood why he did it so deeply. She hates that she would have done the same thing in his shoes; sibling or not, if someone was threatening to kill the person she loved, threatening to kill Mom on top of it, she would have done the same thing.

She did hit Amenadiel when he tried to stop her from leaving, with tears running down her cheeks as it only proved that she made the right choice in running back home.

Few words are exchanged as they make quick work of throwing out the broken pieces of furniture and applying plaster to the holes in the wall, all the while her birds coo and watch them curiously. More than once, they land on her shoulders to watch her actions with tilted heads and soft noises. 

It does not take long before they’re done - most of the time is spent waiting for plaster or paint to dry before continuing to the next step. When they were left in those waiting stages, they spent in silence with her simply resting on his shoulder as he pressed comforting kisses to the top of her head. It is a simple gesture - something not as hot nor passionate as their previously shared kiss, but it is enough.  _ More than enough.  _

The final product is a big improvement to what she had done to it; her plants remain intact, not having the heart to do any damage to them even in her grief. But even with the touches of green, the room just looks  _ newer. Emptier.  _

_ Less homey. _

The dirt and grim from the day cover her skin, sweat gleaming off of her brow and chest. She glances at Carlisle as their work is finished. His hair is only slightly more ruffled, looking soft and fluffy, but still clean. Still relatively perfect. He had discarded his jacket and rolled up his sleeves to work, but neither his shirt nor his trousers have an ounce of paint or dirt. He still looks perfect - like he stepped off a housewife’s magazine. 

A small laugh bubbles in her chest, but it grows before she can stop it. The simple release of the emotions that had been built up in her chest burst through as her laugh turned infectious and boisterous. Carlisle can’t help but feel the warmth that spreads through his chest - almost as if he had a heart - at the sound of her laughter, the tension in the room dissipating as a soft, more welcoming energy spreads through the room.

“May I ask, just what is so funny,” Carlisle raises a brow, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

“You.” Ariel states simply, taking a step forward. Her hand raises toward his face, pausing with a brief moment of hesitation, but when he doesn’t stop her, she ruffles her fingers through his hair. “Here I am all grimmy and somehow covered in a majority of the paint, and there you are, still looking like so - perfect.”

The fingers in his hair turn more playfully aggressive, “Hopefully this will fix it.”

He lets her continue to mess up his hair, watching her in amusement as he notes the spark coming back in her eyes. She steps back to admire the final product, grinning from ear to ear with mischief. He returns the smile and takes a step forward. He almost puts a hand to her waist. Almost brings her in closer. The domestic, mundane,  _ familial  _ energy to the whole situation reaching him in ways that he didn’t expect to. He bites his tongue, swallows thickly, and settles for just smiling. 

“You must be hungry, by now,” Carlisle offers and she shrugs, almost nonchalantly, but not denying the offer of food, “My wallet is on the kitchen counter. Why don’t you order what you’d like and I’ll fetch you a fresh shirt?”

He makes it too easy to tease him and the odd energy of the room, the release of pent up emotions, have left her feeling surreal. Light-headed. Emotional. Her eyes twinkle as a sly smile goes across her lips. 

“Are you looking for an excuse to look through my underthings,  _ Carlisle _ ?”

_ Oh if a vampire could blush.  _ Ariel almost cackles at the expression that spreads across his face. She doesn’t miss the dangerous, hungry gleam dancing in his eyes as they darken. She knows what she’s doing, but with the reminder that life (even an angel’s life)  _ can _ be cut short, the restrictions that bind her are off. She admits that with the grief clawing at her for further relief, it becomes harder and harder to restrict the temptation in front of her.

“My shirts are in the top drawer,” Ariel continues, her eyes still twinkling, “I’m afraid that this shirt was one of the nicer ones, so as long as you have no plans of making fun of my more casual shirts, then a new one will be much appreciated.”

Carlisle can only nod and Ariel watches him depart. Despite the fact that he’s a vampire - something that he knows that she’s aware of - he does not simply zip away, moving at a more human pace. His shift in posture and the stiffness in his shoulders doesn’t go unnoticed and she eyes him for a moment before continuing to the kitchen.

She gets halfway to the counter when she realizes - with an almost comical horror - that her bedroom is not the only room in the house. While most of the other rooms are fairly bare and void of personal touches, there is one particular room that is a bit too  _ personal _ all thanks to Lucifer. The very room that she has not even  _ ventured _ into since she moved in; with the exception of the one time that she got a bit curious about the lingerie. 

She finds Carlisle in a second, her speed becoming inhuman in hopes of stopping him before he opens the wrong door. Her heart pounds in her chest as her eyes widen. Akin to a perfect statue, Carlisle stands in the hallway, door ajar. His eyes are dark, shadowed and hooded as he gives no reaction to her presence beside him. She notes the crushed door knob in his hand. 

Carlisle’s eyes are fixated on the room in a mix of horror, confusion, and mostly, surprise. While spending so much time to know and understand Ariel, he knows that she is complex - like most beings. She has many sides to her personality that he has enjoyed unraveling as she tells him more about her life. He even has to say that her playful teasing and flirting is even welcomed and refreshing.

But she still manages to surprise him with something that he did not expect. This being her bedroom is one of the biggest surprises. He spots the cage first and it takes him a moment to realize what it’s for, but then as his eyes swept across the entire room, each piece of furniture or decor is more surprising than the last. The openly displayed toys and the lingerie in full-view on a rack makes the door knob crush against his palm.

He can’t manage to tear his eyes away from it - his mind going dark as his eyes become shadowed. Something in him - the primal part that makes every vampire more of a monster than a man at times - crawls to get out from his chest. Some part of him is reminded that he was supposed to go for a hunt after work and with the hunger itching at his skin, it makes it harder to resist the other form of temptation. This dangerous game that Ariel is starting.

  
Ariel could give him a half-assed explanation of her brother’s twisted sense of humor and his ability to feel no shame. She could even explain that it was her brother’s idea of a ‘housewarming gift.’ She could have said a lot of things that were not the first thought that left her lips.

_ “I thought you weren’t going to look through my underthings.” _

Her tone is light-hearted despite the panic in her eyes. When there’s no clever retort, no excuse, nor any reaction from Carlisle other than his grip becoming tighter on the door handle, Ariel pauses. She takes a calming step forward with understanding eyes as she gently puts her hand on his shoulder. Her touch startles him as he turns suddenly, like a cat raising its shackles. She can see the struggle in his darkened eyes as his body stiffens.

She pushed too much and she can see the result of it clearly. There is no fear nor judgement as his eyes become dangerously shadowed. She gently places her hand on him again, on his shoulder and gently leads him closer for an embrace.

_ “It’s okay, Carlisle.” _

* * *

  
  


Lucifer couldn’t simply let Ariel go back home - not without at least trying to apologize. She insisted that she wasn’t upset at him, but she should be. She has every right to be and he would gladly accept any punishment she throws his way - at the risk that it would destroy their bond - if it meant that she would forgive him. 

It takes him a moment to find the right house - accidentally flying over a similar house not far from hers that seemed to be the host for the coven she’s spoken so fondly of. 

He is about to knock on the door - feeling too careful and hesitant after the note that they left on. His hand raised, he spots his sister in the hall through the large windows and low light. Her silhouette stretched against the wall. He pauses and squints his eyes to see the other figure with her; the man has his arms tightly wrapped around her waist, his forehead pressed against her chest. 

_ Oh.  _ With a devilish grin, knowing that she is in good hands and resisting the urge to break up the moment, Lucifer is gone before anyone knew he was there.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't put the eye emoji in an author's note but <.<  
> Lots of emotions going on and emotions come with endorphins that can maybe make us seek certain distractions; hence why 'makeup-sex' is so popular - though Ariel and Carlisle aren't that physical in their relationship yet, it a reason why Ariel was teasing so much.


	15. Alive

The house feels so empty. It’s become more and more apparent to her since Carlisle and her repaired it. The missing furniture pieces just opened up too much space and with the fresh paint, it feels more like an open house set for sale than a home.

She finds herself trailing around the empty bedrooms more often now; the bare walls and lack of personal touches hit her hard as she imagines what the rooms would look like if they were full of life and company. She imagines that if Trixie were here, she would claim her room and paint drawings on the wall. 

She sighs. Maybe she needs to decorate the rooms. Just to make it feel like she isn’t alone in such a big house. Or give up the hope of visitors.

_ Linda is calling... _

Ariel looks down at the screen of her phone, wondering if it is in her best interest to answer it. The events from the other week are still weighing on her heavily, being fresh in both her mind and her heart. It makes her feet drag during her shifts and she can feel it taking a toll on her; even the other nurses have commented on the bags that are starting to form under her eyes and the overwhelming negative energy that she is projecting is the reason that Brett moved her to working the phones for now. Apparently she is too depressing to be around the patients.

Carlisle has done his best, having helped tremendously by being openly affectionate and being a comforting shoulder to lean on. He is a welcomed distraction to underlying issues and she has tried her best to focus her attention more on him than on the weight on her chest. 

She is not sure just how much more drama she can take right now. She tells herself that that’s why she still hasn’t told Carlisle what she is. 

She’s already received a few, if brief, texts from Chloe asking if she was okay; so she knows that word has already spread throughout that group about what happened.

But Linda; she remembers Linda’s calming voice, her patient and her understanding; the woman who was the one to give her the idea of becoming a nurse. The therapist has proven herself to be useful; helpful. Nice.

In the comfort of her home, dressed in a light nightgown due to it being a hotter night than usual, she answers the call as she settles into a fluffy chair with a throw blanket. The two pigeons settle down on her shoulders, pecking gently at her ears. 

“ _ Ariel? I heard about what happened, I usually prefer to talk about this sort of thing in person, but given the circumstances, I knew that we had to talk as soon as possible.” _

Ariel takes in a deep breath, closing her eyes as she leans back into the chair. 

“Did you know,” Ariel asks softly. When Linda doesn’t answer, she repeats herself more firmly. “Did you know about Uriel? Did you know that they were keeping such big things from me?”

_ “...Yes. I knew about Uriel. I knew that they were keeping things from you. I constantly urged them both to come forward with you about some details about your… family… but ultimately, it is not my place to tell you.” _

The hesitation in the word family leaves a bad taste in her mouth; she doesn’t like the implication that there is still more that she doesn’t know. 

“It’s not really your place to keep it secret either,  _ doctor,” _ Ariel’s nose crinkles as her brows furrow, “I thought that therapists only kept things secret unless it  _ hurt others _ .”

Linda pauses and she knows that it is a low blow, but the bitter part of her for having it kept secret makes it hard to care. 

“ _ You’re right, that wasn’t right of me to do. I had really tried my best to get them to get them to tell you since I felt that this is all out of my depth and that you deserved to hear it from one of them. But that doesn’t change the fact that I should have handled things different. I am sorry, Ariel.” _

Ariel groans in mild disappointment; a part of her was hoping for a fight, hoping that she would get the chance to yell and scream. To do  _ something. _ But Linda’s sincere apology is clear as she accepts her part in keeping it secret.

“You’re making it hard to stay upset, doctor,” Ariel mumbles under her breath. “I just - I feel like I could have done things better, myself.”

_ “You think you could have prevented it if you did something different,” _ Linda presses,  _ “You blame yourself, don’t you?”  _

Ariel’s silence is answer enough. Linda continues, “ _ Guilt is a common stage of grief, but if we focus only on the guilt, then we never properly grieve.”  _

The more that Linda talks, the more Ariel feels a bit more secure. Grounded. Lighter. She can’t imagine how the impromptu therapy sessions go with her brothers; but there is something about talking it out with someone who  _ knows _ the whole situation and knows what to say that  _ helps. _ Ariel isn’t sure how it happens, but the conversation progresses into lighter, happier topics like a  _ real _ conversation as they laugh together over the phone.

“ _ I was thinking…”  _ Linda speaks up hesitantly, “ _ Maybe having some more company over would help? Sometimes to grieve those who have passed, we need to surround ourselves with those still alive. Maybe I should drop Charlie off this weekend? No Amenadiel. You don’t work the weekend shift, so maybe he can even spend the entire weekend with his favorite aunt.” _

“I think you’re just trying to rope me into babysitting duty,” Ariel dryly comments, but the appeal of having her favorite nephew over is hard to pass up. 

“-But I would love to watch over Charlie for the weekend.”

* * *

  
  


Carlisle notices the change in her demeanor the next morning; the spark ignited in her eye and the excitement buzzing off of her can be felt around the room. Her newfound cheerfulness and passion show in her work as she breezes through the day and he can’t help but feel thankful to see the return of her happiness, having noted her more depressed demeanor since they talked.

He watches her in mild amusement as he strolls up behind her as she writes on the notepad in her hands. The lacking presence of anyone in the deserted halls makes him hum with ideas as he approaches her. When he lightly blows on the back of her neck, she turns around sharply on her heels to acknowledge his presence.

“You look rather chipper this morning.”

The privacy within the halls can be short lived, but knowing that anyone can walk in on them doesn’t stop them as they stand close together, her back against the wall with a forgotten notepad at her side. The small distance between them buzzes, an electric sensation making her arms break out into chills. The shadows starting to make an appearance in Carlisle’s eyes are the only indication that he is fully aware of just how close they are.

“-I should hope so,” Ariel gives him a coy smile, “I have every reason to be.”

She reaches for him, closing the distance between them to press a chaste kiss on his lips. The affection takes him off guard, despite her constant teasing and flirtations, their shared kisses have been few. But it serves as a good reminder of where they stand together. Still, the touch of her lips on his isn’t long enough for his liking. 

Boldly, a hand wraps around her waist and pulls her close as he steals another, longer kiss from her. She happily hums into the kiss, leaning into his embrace. He can feel the warmth of her against his chest as they part with soft smiles.

“Do you plan on sharing the reason you’re so chipper,” his voice soft and teasing.

“Hmm maybe you’ll have to kiss the answer out of me,” Ariel hums, looking up at him with glowing, mischievous eyes and a flirtatious smirk. 

At the small growl at the back of his throat, Ariel grins wildly as she sees the hooded look haunt his eyes. 

“That is tempting,” Carlisle agrees, his voice low and dark, “But I don’t see how you plan on talking if your lips are occupied?”

Ariel pulls away gently with a pout and it makes him regret saying anything. But his hand is still pressed against the small of her back as she fixes the collar of his shirt.

“Pity. I was hoping to steal a few more kisses from you, but I suppose that we’ll have to save it for a later date. And if you  _ must _ know, Amenadiel’s wife is dropping by this weekend so that I may spend the weekend with my favorite nephew.”

The news of Amenadiel’s wife isn’t surprising; Carlisle knew that both of her brothers already had partners, though he isn’t sure if their concept of marriage and mates is the same as the coven’s. He expects that they would be the same species, as it is with most vampires’ pairs, but he supposes that there is a possibility of them being human. Ariel hasn’t commented enough on the subject for him to put those pieces together.

Nor has she commented enough on the fact that she has an apparent nephew, which makes his eyes brighten as his mind stirs with questions. She notices the curiosity in his eyes, giving a wistful laugh, her eyes softening.

“It’s - it’s been too long since I’ve seen him and he’s still a child, so full of life and energy. It’ll be nice for the house to be filled up with that type of energy.”

Carlisle hums thoughtfully, her apparent loneliness having always been noticeable and present since he met her. Though he likes to think that their budding relationship is starting to ease that, he has to admit that he hasn’t really visited her house since helping her repair it nor have they really spent much time together outside of the hospital as of lately. Something that he admits is his fault, being buried behind a lot of work at the hospital lately. 

“Maybe I’ll have to bring him to the hospital, just so he can see where I work,” Ariel hesitantly offers and the implications of her bringing over specifically just to see him makes his heart flutter.

“I should be off this weekend,” Carlisle points out gently, “Perhaps a visit to the city would be more fun? Or a trip to the lake? It’s supposed to be cloudy, but I don’t think we’re due for any rain this weekend.”

“I’m not sure what a four year old would like to do in the city, but a trip to the lake is a splendid idea; is a certain doctor planning on joining us?”

The revelation of her nephew’s exact age makes him pause ever so slightly as he processes the new information; it  _ has _ been a very long time since he’s interacted with such young children. Most of the children in Forks have already grown into highschoolers and many of the townsfolk aren’t in a hurry to have more kids. But the idea of really interacting with a  _ child _ \- a baby, really - with Ariel stirs up  _ something _ \- a long forgotten domestic dream.

“I would be happy to join you.”


	16. Charlie

_ To Carlisle: _

_ I got called in today; it shouldn’t be that long of a shift, but Linda is due to arrive at the house any hour now. Can you let her into my house for me?  _

Ariel can feel her frustration building, her head beginning to throb as she hurries to get ready for her shift at work. She quickly sends multiple texts, going back and forth between Carlisle, Amenadiel and Linda - her fingers working to get her messages out fast before she heads to work. 

Linda had insisted on taking a plane to Forks despite Amenadiel insisting on flying her over himself. Thus her phone has been exploding with texts from him, demanding to know if Linda is there yet, if she’s okay, if Charlie is there. Ariel spends as little time as possible responding to him as she tries to find the keys to her motorcycle.

_ From Carlisle: _

_ Of course, darling. I’ll keep her occupied until your shift ends. _

Ariel smiles when she lingers over the word  _ darling;  _ she imagines that the two doctors could have quite the conversation until her shift ends. Linda’s messages are a little less encouraging with her going into detail that due to an incoming storm, she’ll have to drop off Charlie quickly before heading back off to the airport. It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth that the plans of her taking her nephew to the lake are less likely to happen due to the storm. 

Linda declines Ariel’s offer to fly her back herself, just as she refuses Amenadiel. Something about insisting that the airplane is more comfortable and less anxiety-induced. Honestly, Ariel can’t blame her, though she does have plans on taking Charlie back home herself to save Linda a second trip. According to Amenadiel, the little nephilim has no qualms about flying through the air freely like his mother does. Ariel sighs as she slips on her helmet.

_ To Carlisle: _

_ Linda’s dropping off Charlie so she can catch her flight back home before the storm.  _

_ Think you can entertain a four-year-old for a few hours? _

She can only hope that this goes over well. She bites at her bottom lip, her legs swung over the sides of her bike, her foot tapping against the ground nervously. She neglects to text Amenadiel of the change of plans, knowing that he would fly over immediately himself to watch over Charlie until she got off work just to avoid having the vampire babysit him. 

What she  _ does _ know is that, upon reading Carlisle’s text that he would watch over Charlie himself, is that Charlie is in safe hands. Though the children in Forks are few, she has seen the way Carlisle interacts with them - all smiles, comforting words and careful procedures. She trusts him - that trust being put to the ultimate test through trusting her nephew in his care.

And when that change of plans is mentioned to Linda, she doesn’t oppose it.

She hesitates before she sends one last text to Carlisle - the memories of the danger Charlie was in when he was firstborn replaying in her mind - before she drives off to the hospital, anxiety in her chest as she hopes that it all goes well. 

_ To: Carlisle _

_ Thank you - just keep a close eye on him and please don’t let him wander off on his own.  _

* * *

  
  


Carlisle knows the amount of trust that is being placed on his shoulders - and it honestly warms his would-be-dead heart that she is giving him the chance to prove himself. To honor that trust. He can feel her anxiety through her latest message and sends back words of comfort, but he knows how much she was looking forward to seeing her nephew and he would do everything that he can to make that happen. 

Considering that Linda - who he infers is Amenadiel’s wife - is apparently fully aware of the change of plans and is not, to his knowledge, fighting against it, it shows that either one of two things. Either Linda is more like Ariel than she is her own husband in that she is extending an olive branch/an offer of trust to the coven or she isn’t aware that they  _ are _ vampires. He is a bit worried to figure out which one it is. Ariel hasn’t told him much about the woman, other than that she is a doctor herself, favoring the mind over the body. Ariel spoke highly of her and the other doctor’s influence on her is obvious and positive.

Even the child himself is worrying Carlisle; and excites him. To see if it is a child that was turned into her kind (which he has mixed emotions about if it ends up being true), or if Ariel’s apparent species is able to reproduce more naturally (unlike the female vampires). Or, even more interestingly, if Amenadiel’s wife isn’t the same species and this is some hybrid child. Though the nephew’s apparent name does make him smile; just the idea of the child the same name as the local sheriff is just a small inside joke that makes him hum with amusement. 

Ariel shares Linda’s contact with him and apparently his contact has been shared to her as well considering he is immediately flooded with texts from Linda about directions and where she should tell her cab to go. He debates for a moment on whether or not he should have her go directly to his house before he immediately decides against it. 

The risks would be too great. She could be too intimidated by such a large coven and decide against leaving Charlie in their care, which could lead her to taking the child back to LA with her, devastating Ariel. She could get defensive, start a fight by being confronted with a coven, if she is the same species as Ariel that could pose a number of problems. So he settles for the least intimidating, most comfortable method of just meeting her at Ariel’s own house. He may not have a key, but when he arrives, the door is unlocked (which he makes a note to ask her about at a later date - non-human or not, unlocked doors in the middle of a forest is not safe).

The rest of the family is tense; against him meeting someone unknown by himself, but he catches at least Rosalie watching him from the forest. It doesn’t surprise him - the moment that he said that they would be watching over Ariel’s four year old nephew, her interest had been piqued. The few sparse texts that she sends Ariel through Alice’s phone hadn’t gone unnoticed by him, but he doesn’t openly question her. 

He hears the cab pull up not too long after. He takes a moment to observe; she isn’t as immediately noticeable as either Ariel or Amenadiel, looking more natural and mundane. With her glasses and book-ish appearance, she looks much less intimidating than her husband. When he cracks open the door, he can smell her blood; strong, immediate,  _ human.  _ That alone is interesting enough; the idea that Amenadiel does  _ in fact  _ have a human wife. 

He can catch a glimpse of Charlie through the cab’s window, resembling Amenadiel the most with his complexion and dark hair. His eyes go wide when Charlie seems to immediately notice him, meeting his eyes evenly with big, innocent doe eyes that blink at him curiously. Unlike Linda, Charlie’s smell is less noticeable. It takes a moment for Carlisle to really catch it. While the metallic, human scent is still there, Charlie smells more like Amenadiel than he does completely human.

_ Interesting, interesting. _

He makes his presence known when he spots her struggling with getting Charlie out of the cab and the large overnight bag that she has packed for him. He is careful of Ariel’s birds, not quite knowing if they will fly off without her being present, and makes his way outside with a friendly smile as he offers his help.

“Excuse me, do you need a hand?” 

Linda jumps at the sound of the melodic voice and immediately turns to see the man approaching her. She wasn’t sure what to expect - with the stories that Amenadiel and Ariel tell her being so drastically different in tone and point of view. But an inhumanly handsome doctor with a charming grin is definitely  _ new.  _ She tenses at first; she is not stupid. She knows first hand how convincing bad people can be, but there’s such an honest sincerity in his eyes. And Ariel  _ does _ trust him; and Amenadiel,  _ begrudgingly,  _ even admitted after his visit with his sister last time that the doctor wasn’t  _ completely awful. _

“Yes, yes that would be very helpful, thank you,” Linda stutters for a moment as she pushes up the bridge of her glasses. 

When he arrives, he immediately takes her hand in a soft, gentle handshake. He is careful to make sure that he doesn’t come off intimidating, making himself seem as gentle and friendly as possible. His smile never falters even though he can feel the anxiety in his chest buzzing around inside of him, afraid that one wrong word would make her leave with Charlie in tow; he wouldn’t stop her, but it would break Ariel’s heart.

_ “Dr. Carlisle Cullen. _ You must be Dr. Linda. Ariel’s spoken very highly of you, this visit really means a lot to her.”

It takes a moment, but Linda returns the smile and the handshake. Her grip is professionally firm and steady, even if he can see the worry in her eyes. Up close, she can see the worry in his own and feel how comforting his presence can be. She’s reminded that this is the man who comforted Ariel when the news was broken to her and she can  _ see _ it. She can  _ hear  _ it. The love when he mentions Ariel.

“Likewise, Dr. Cullen,” her smile growing and becoming more sincere. 

Carlisle immediately takes the bag that she was struggling with as she focuses her intention on getting Charlie. He leads them both into the house, noting with amusement the way that Linda admires and looks around the house with a small bit of awe. 

The pigeons that make themselves known the moment that the front door closes, makes her jump. Charlie, however, immediately is enamored with the birds as he gently lifts his arm out for them to land on. Carlisle watches him for a moment, noting the surprisingly gentle manner and ease at which Charlie coos and pets the birds. 

“Everything he needs should be packed,” Linda finally speaks up, gesturing toward the bag that she sets on the ground, “Ariel should know what he likes and what to do, she’s babysat him before so you should text her with questions. She’s more likely to answer since I have to head straight back to the airport.”

Linda scratches at the back of her neck, somewhat uncertain of how to proceed. She glances toward her son and seeing that he is perfectly comfortable and happy, she breathes a sigh of relief. If there is one thing that Linda found out very fast about her son - and whether this is because of him being a child, being part-angel, or due to what happened as a baby, she has no idea - is that Charlie is a flawless judge of character. He seems to immediately pick up on anything that is negative or bad from a person and when he does, he makes it very clear that he will not want anything to do with them. 

But he is comfortable now in Carlisle’s presence. He is happy, content, and already laughing as the birds gently pick at his hair. And that alone, more than anything, already tells Linda exactly what kind of person Carlisle is. 

She smiles as she starts to head out, only pausing to look toward Carlisle for one last question, “By the way, Dr. Cullen -”

He immediately turns his attention toward her as she voices her thoughts on her way out. The worry in his eyes have lessened, being replaced with respect, interest and curiosity. 

“-Can I ask about the whole vampire thing - later when I’m not in a hurry and we have a chance to talk - ,” Linda hesitantly adds, her brows furrowed as she waves her hand, “-Or is that something that we don’t talk about, or…?”


	17. Break of A Baseball Bat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also made a playlist for this fanfiction on Spotify (Divine - Fanfiction Playlist by DaniDear)  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4L5Tq5Bi5g3chRwlxefTyy?si=zt_MWfzDR96ixgELKJDN9w

Linda’s declaration leaves Carlisle stunned, leaving him blinking at her owlishly as he realizes that she knows the truth. The straightforwardness of her question takes him off guard as she waits for an answer from him. He can’t seem to find one for her. 

While a human knowing the truth about them is dangerous - with the biggest threat being the Volturi finding out - he has a feeling that it just is not that simple, especially given that her own husband - just like Ariel - is not human. 

Charlie seems to become more invested in their conversation, tugging on Carlisle’s leg to get his attention. Carlisle looks at him after a moment, forcing a warm smile toward the child that hands him one of the pigeon’s feathers as if it is a gift. Carlisle takes the feather, making sure he tells Charlie just how much it is appreciated before the child is off to continue to play with the birds. 

Realization seems to dawn on Linda, her cheeks flushing. 

“I’m sorry. Amenadiel and Ariel talk a lot about it and I got curious. I mean -  _ vampires _ that’s pretty -  _ wow.  _ Not the craziest thing that I’ve found out about, sure, but it definitely is in my top five. I promise that your secret is as safe with me as theirs are. I’m honestly just glad that we actually know a  _ physical, medical  _ doctor now so that I don’t have to keep patching up wounds.”

Carlisle’s brows furrow, from the casual mention that vampires  _ aren’t _ the craziest thing that she knows about to the casual mention of patching up wounds; both which bring a new onslaught of questions that he wants to ask as he realizes that as much as he knows, there is still much  _ unknown  _ about Ariel and her family. 

“-It happens a lot, so just expect midnight calls about how to stitch up a dangerous wound. I should really get going though so I don’t run the meter, it was a pleasure meeting you, Dr. Cullen - and please,  _ take care of Ariel for us.” _

Linda’s eyes glimmer with raw sincerity and Carlisle wonders just how complex Ariel’s family (and species) is that her family worries about her this much; and he wonders just what has happened between them to warrant the worry about her. It takes him a moment to find his voice before he speaks up, answering at least part of her statement.

  
_ “I will.” _

Linda hums thoughtfully, giving him a nod in return before she’s out the door. He waits until he hears the cab drive off to finally relax, looking at Charlie with curious eyes; like Ariel, there is just something about Charlie that feels…  _ warm.  _ The child is happily giggling as he wanders around the open living room and kitchen, following wherever the birds take him. 

Carlisle focuses on the child, after deciding that he will handle one thing at a time. He can’t do much about Linda knowing about vampires right now, especially without Ariel present. But he can observe the hybrid in front of him and try to figure out  _ some _ answers.

Charlie, oblivious to Carlisle’s curious observing eyes, happily waddles after the birds and picks up every loose feather he can find on the ground. 

_ Just what are you,  _ Carlisle wonders in amusement as the child continues to bring him every pigeon feather that he finds. Carlisle’s heart warms at each ‘gift’, continuing to thank the boy each time. The interactions make it very clear that hybrid or not, the child seems to be just like any other child his age. 

There is no indication that he is older than he appears, or insanely mature beyond his age. Ariel has talked about caring for him when he was a baby four years ago and the child in front of him definitely seems to be four years old, just as Ariel said. Which means as far as Carlisle can tell, despite being a hybrid, Charlie seems to be aging like any human child. 

It also means that whatever Ariel may be, her kind certainly at least seems capable of  _ producing  _ human-hybrids. The idea leaves a bit of bitter taste in his mouth, the idea that if she were with a human, then she could (in theory) conceive a child; something that he is fairly certain that he won’t be able to do. That she is giving that up to be with him. 

Charlie giggles and brings him over another feather. Carlisle accepts it - yet again - wondering just how many pigeon feathers Ariel's birds are leaving around. He starts to put it with the others in his hand before pausing. 

He squints at the feather as it stands out among the others in his hand. Against the others, the feather looks vastly different than the others. The color being more vibrantly gray and having a shiny sheen to it that gleams against the indoor lights; giving it a more ethereal look to it. Being significantly larger than the other feathers in his hand, it looks more reminiscent to an owl’s feather than a pigeon. The pigeons, however, are the only birds that Carlisle knows of that Ariel takes care in her house.

Hesitantly, when Carlisle looks up and sees no sign of any other feathers like it, he sticks it (carefully) into his pocket for the future, having a compulsion to look it over closely at a later date.

“Who’s that?”   
  


Charlie’s voice is soft and gentle as he presses his hands against the glass near the back patio of Ariel’s house. His nose is scrunched up against the glass, his eyes wide and curious as he fixates on something in the treeline. He turns to look at Carlisle for answers while raising a hand to point outside, repeating his question.

_ Rosalie.  _ Carlisle almost forgot about her presence. He smiles warmly and scoops up the child in his arms. 

“That’s my daughter,” Carlisle states simply as he opens the back door. “Rosalie.”

Charlie waves goodbye to the birds stuck inside of the house as they go outside together. Now closer to the odd figure in the treeline, Charlie squirms in Carlisle’s grasp, trying to get down. Carlisle gently sets him on the ground at his insistence. Charlie walks confidently toward Rosalie’s hidden spot among the trees, arms outstretched with curious eyes and a large, innocent smile.

Seeing the child walk toward her, Rosalie hesitantly emerges from the brush. She meets the child halfway and at Charlie’s request to get picked up, her hands hover around him before obliging. When Charlie simply giggles and laughs at being picked up, her resolve melts.

* * *

  
  


The moment that her shift ends, Ariel is immediate in getting to Charlie as fast as she can with a warmth blooming in her chest. Despite the shift not being insanely long, it certainly felt that way. It seemed like one thing after another kept going wrong - from spills, to accidents, to other nurses not writing down the correct information. She tried her best to take it all with dignity, even when she felt like taking out her frustration. The one small break that she got, she spent it outside to listen to the thundering storm brewing in the sky and relished in the way it calmed her. Without Carlisle present at the hospital, she felt a bit alone in the halls as she attended to different patients. 

But she is looking forward to her day turning around.

Her phone has done nothing but blow up over the course of her short shift; a few texts from Carlisle, with Carlisle apologizing profusely as he explains that the entire coven has flooded her house to meet Charlie; an additional text explains that they will be at his house with Charlie’s things, followed by some vague text about the birds not liking Emmett; a text from Alice quickly further explains that the birds thought Emmett made an excellent toilet choice.

Linda sends emojis with hearts as she sends vague texts about seeing _ what Ariel sees in the doctor.  _ Amenadiel’s frustrated voice comes through in his messages; all of which Ariel sends brief replies to that his son is  _ perfectly fine and to let her enjoy her time with her nephew.  _

Texts from Alice are high in number, with her sending constant texts about Charlie, including  _ lots _ of pictures of Charlie; each of which she promptly saves into her phone. Some pictures she isn’t sure of, not immediately recognizing some of the apparent other coven members, with her interactions always being brief and in passing at the hospital when they visited Carlisle. 

But the pictures that Alice sends give her an immediate big picture of just how much the coven is enjoying watching over Charlie. Rosalie holding Charlie. Charlie hugging up against Carlisle. Emmett plays with some of Charlie’s toys; some of the pictures feature Charlie playing with him, but others lack Charlie’s presence and leave Emmet playing on the floor with the toys alone. Jasper being stoic as Charlie looks up at him with big, doe eyes of wonder. A selfie of Alice and Charlie. Edward looked incredibly uncomfortable as Charlie sat beside him on the piano bench, his little fingers outstretched to play the keys.

Their apparent interactions with her nephew makes her regret not spending more time with the coven that Carlisle calls family. Aside from the few shopping trips that she’s made with Alice and their exchanges over text, she regrettably admits that she doesn’t know the others very well. It makes her heart swell that despite that, each of them are still watching over her nephew and entertaining him. 

_ To Carlisle _

_ I’m going to shower and change before I come relieve you of your babysitting duties. Be lucky that you didn’t have to come in - there was a code orange. Can’t see Charlie until I clean up.  _

She follows it with a series of frustrated and sad emojis before tucking the phone into her pocket and slipping on her helmet, trying her best to ignore the chemical smell seeping from her.

* * *

  
  


Carlisle immediately greets her when Ariel arrives at the house. He notices the tired gleam in her eyes, the bags forming under her eyes from a tiring shift. He gently leads her in, a hand around her waist as he pulls her close. She leans into his embrace as they head inside. The coven gives little notice to her entrance, merely glancing at her as Carlisle whispers soft comforts into her ear. Edward appears uncomfortable as Carlisle’s thoughts about how to comfort her reach his mind. 

They stand in the middle of the Cullen's living room, silent, as she leans against Carlisle’s side. She looks worried, with her brows furrowed. Her eyes hooded, tired, and older. Carlisle looks at her with a soft, understanding gaze and his arm moves around her, clutching her hip. He presses a quick kiss to the top of her head, almost as if he is making an unspoken promise to her and the creases in her face relax. She sighs in content, her tired eyes closing against his comforting presence.Her worry seems to melt away against him and she can feel the vibration of his thoughtful, calming hums.

Alice watches with twinkling eyes, nudging Jasper in the ribs to get his attention; he nods in acknowledgement at the small moment, knowing that her excitement can only mean that this moment is what she saw all that time ago. 

“ _ Auntie!” _

Charlie’s excited squeal cuts through the tender silence in the room as Rosalie enters the room with the boy against her hip. He giggles and reaches for Ariel with wiggling fingers. No matter how tired she may feel, Charlie’s presence lightens her load as she goes toward him to take him from Rosalie. 

“There’s my little owlet,” Ariel coos, her eyes gleaming with joy as a soft smile stretches across her face. She glances toward Rosalie, “And it seems like you were in such good hands.”

Rosalie huffs at the comment, but Ariel can see the glimpse of a smile on her face as she hands over the child. Ariel immediately hugs him tightly, burying herself against him as he squeals happily when she blows raspberries against his cheeks and tickles his sides. Rosalie watches the exchange silently, a heaviness forming in her chest; she barely acknowledges Emmett when he places a silent hand on her shoulder in comfort. 

“Thank you for keeping him busy,” Ariel glances toward everyone, her voice sincere and soft, “I was - I was really worried that something would happen while I was working and I wouldn’t be able to see him.”

Ariel’s eyes are algow when she glances toward her nephew, love shining in her eyes. “Charlie means  _ a lot  _ to the whole family. I knew that you all would take good care of him,  _ thank you.” _

The sincerity and love in her voice is clear, the energy beaming from her fills the room with a soft, caring feeling that makes them all relax with a calming sigh. She seems to glow in the low light in a way that basks all of them. Carlisle watches her closely with adoration, feeling the energy pulsing from her and the way that Charlie seems to acknowledge it and do the same thing as he grins and giggles.

Though Edward wasn’t as confident as she seems to be in their abilities of control and their ability to take care of Charlie, he gives a tense nod in acknowledgement to her statement. Alice grins wildly as she leans against Jasper, who stands behind her with his arms wrapped tightly around her, his chin resting on the top of her head. 

“Thank you for trusting us with him,” Carlisle finally voices, stepping forward toward Ariel. He puts his hand on her shoulder and she beams at him with a glowing grin. 

  
Rosalie takes a step back, easing into the shadows as Emmett watches her closely, noticing the pained look in her eyes. 

“I’m not sure what we’re doing to do now that it’s storming,” Ariel frowns, “Originally, it was going to be the lake.”

Emmett is the one to step forward, his eyes turning wild as he grins madly, “ _ Take him with us to our baseball match so he can see the way I beat everyone!” _

* * *

Vampires playing baseball in a thunderstorm is added to the list of things that Ariel didn’t expect when she moved to Forks. Used to the oddness of her own family, it doesn’t surprise too much but it is still unexpected. It reminds her of the saying that every family’s weird, but everyone is weird in their own way that is weird to everyone else. So here is she, standing in a clearing of the forest as thunder rolls in overhead. Unlike the Cullens, who seem to be unfazed by the drizzle of rain that starts, she at least wears a raincoat. If anything, to set an example for Charlie who is splashing around in a mud puddle in his own matching coat, hat and boats.

“There’s a joke somewhere about all of you having matching baseball uniforms,” Ariel states coyly as she glances toward Carlisle. 

“When you find out what that joke is, be sure to let me know,” Carlisle teases her as they share a chaste kiss before the rest of the coven start their game.

“Come on,” Emmett urges, hollering as he swings the bat around impatiently, “ _ Less flirting, more baseball!” _

Ariel scoops Charlie up when the game begins to keep him out of the way of the overeager vampires. She knows that it is unlikely that they would accidentally run him over, but Charlie’s heritage makes it easier for him to get hurt. He has yet to catch a cold, he’s even taken after Amenadiel’s wings, but Ariel remembers the first time that Linda freaked out when Charlie accidentally broke his arm because he played too rough. Superhuman strength plus human bones are not a good combination.

Ariel opts to sit down on a rock nearby, watching as Carlisle starts to wind up the ball. She holds Charlie tightly in her lap. Charlie pouts at being taken away from the mud puddle, squirming with incoherent frustration. Rosalie glances at them from the corners of her eyes and Ariel doesn’t miss the hint of anger in her irises. When he starts to squirm too much, Ariel’s hold doesn’t falter. The glowering child grows restless against her chest. 

Not wanting him to expose his wings in a desperate attempt to get away or get hurt in her gentle, yet firm and strong grip, Ariel hisses in his ear. Her words are distorted as Enochian is whispered from her lips. Her voice is soft, being covered by the crack of Emmett’s bat as he swings at the ball. 

English, at times, does not always reach the small nephilim. To Linda’s surprise, Charlie had learned the tongue of the angels easier and faster than he did any human language. It is one of the many things that no one expected from the unexpected child.

_ “Settle down, little bird. Watch.” _

Ariel gently points toward the game, refusing to use the power of her voice to command anything from the child, instead trying to get him to listen from his own will. Charlie pouts, but turns in her lap to follow where she is pointing. The way Carlisle watches them curiously makes her flush as she realizes that he may have heard her despite the thunder and the noise of Emmett’s bat.

But with the game in full swing, Carlisle can’t exactly say much. Charlie’s eyes go wide with wonder as the vampires become fast blurs in the wind, dashing around violently as they do not go easy against each other. Ariel giggles when more than one of them go flying due to being pushed by one of the others. Charlie laughs every time a bat is broken or makes a boom in time with the thunder; he giggles and squirms every time Rosalie makes a show of waving at him each time that she is up to bat. 

It’s not a day on the lake; it’s not the quiet and sunny day that she expected to have with her nephew. Instead, it is something much better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enochian - the language of the angels; Maze mentions it once in Lucifer that I remember (very briefly; she mentions the language and made a sort of growling noise with it, but it not mentioned again that I can remember). I like the idea that Charlie picked it up easier and faster than he did English.
> 
> Nephilim - In the Bible, these were the children that happened between the angels and mankind. Specifically, it is mentioned that they are the offspring of 'sons of God and the daughters of man'; even more so, they were supposed to be the offspring of fallen angels and humans. In both cases, Charlie would 100% be considered a nephilim (I do not think that they mention in this Lucifer, but I could be wrong). Supposedly, they were also 'giants'. One known nephilim is the Goliath (as in David and the Goliath). 
> 
> In this case, Carlisle notices that Charlie is larger than most kids his age; this is because he is a nephilim.


	18. Deep Thoughts and Introspection

The coven leaves to go for a hunt after their hunger becomes more apparent; all except for one. Ariel watches Rosalie closely, the one coven member who insisted that she will hunt later. 

The whole day, Ariel has kept a close eye on the female Cullen. Her apparent fascination and adoration for Charlie has been clear since Ariel arrived; but she is not stupid. Rosalie’s visible, immediate love for Charlie is noticeable, but that is not the only thing that Ariel observes. 

She’s noticed the way that the woman withdraws when Ariel’s presence is close to them. The darker look in her eyes when certain words are said. It becomes very clear, very fast, that the reason Rosalie stayed is because she is so hesitant on leaving Charlie’s side. Just as it becomes very clear to Ariel that despite Rosalie’s attachment to her nephew - which, admittedly, makes her feathers ruffle - Rosalie also has some underlying issues. 

She isn’t sure if she notices it because she is an angel or if she notices it because being around Linda so often has made her more observant of certain behaviors. Like all the behaviors that Rosalie has had throughout Charlie’s visit that make it clear that she is very upset. She hides it well, Ariel will give that to her; but it is still there. In the dark shadows of her eyes, the thinning of her lips, the way she is avoiding Ariel when she has Charlie, but happily treading along Charlie’s side when Ariel’s attention is elsewhere. 

It makes her heart ache; Ariel can feel it especially now. The pain just oozes off of Rosalie as she kneels on the ground, her attention solely on Charlie as he happily plays alongside her. Anything that Charlie hands her, Rosalie takes with grace and a smile, looking serene and at peace. 

“You have to take him back home soon, don’t you,” Rosalie finally speaks up, her voice soft.

Ariel silently nods; even as he plays, Charlie yawns and stretches in the way that any toddler would when they’re up past their bedtime. Rosalie’s lips thin and her grip on the toy grows tight, the tension is obvious in her shoulders. Her nerves are being drawn and Ariel prepares herself for what is bound to happen - the  _ snap. _

  
“How did you - your brother, I mean -” Rosalie starts, her voice uncertain as it wavers. 

Ariel hesitates, sighing as she kneels down, scooping Charlie up as he starts to sway on his feet with little yawns. Rosalie’s nose twitches at the face he makes. Ariel places him in one of the living room chairs for now and he curls up into a ball immediately, his eyes fluttering closed.

“It’s complicated,” Ariel finally speaks up, her voice growing softer to not wake the child that is starting to fall asleep. “Charlie is the first hybrid in a  _ very _ long time, we don’t usually interact with humans enough for it to happen. My brother has a few theories. Thinks that we adapt and change form based on what we feel - he didn’t want to be one of us, so he wasn’t; then he slept with Linda.”

Ariel continues, her frustration growing in her voice. Her tone change makes Charlie shift and squirm. She takes a deep breath and continues.

“Whether my brother was human or not while he slept with Linda, I don’t know. He’s certainly not human now and Charlie definitely takes after our family... But something changed, at least for a little while, and apparently he was human enough for Charlie to happen. I only saw them after Charlie was born, so I don’t know the specifics.”

Rosalie takes the information in slowly, her brows furrowed. Ariel starts to clean up Charlie’s toys as she speaks, gathering it all in his bag and putting it by his chair; she treads carefully, both physically and with her words as the tension grows between them. Rosalie shifts uneasily, her head beginning to throb as she tries to understand the concept of a species that can simply  _ change _ what they are.

Taking pity on the expression on Rosalie’s face, Ariel’s eyes soften as she explains more simply. 

“I know Amenadiel was thrilled when he found out Linda was pregnant. I think that we’re not meant to have kids, but that when, deep down in our self consciousness, when we want to have children, something in us changes to make it possible.”

Rosalie’s knuckles go white as she clenches her palm into a tight fist. Not from hatred or genuine anger at her personally. Ariel can see it in Rosalie’s eyes - burning jealousy. Envy.  _ Desire.  _ She starts to put the pieces together and her heart aches as she begins to realize just why Rosalie is so deeply distraught. 

Ariel spots Carlisle from the corner of her eyes. She’s not sure how much he’s heard, or when the coven returned, but he looks ready to jump in at a moment's notice. His attention is going back and forth rapidly between Rosalie and Ariel. When he meets her eyes, Ariel nods toward the stirring child in the chair. He takes the hint and obliges, shifting his focus on Charlie, scooping him up from the chair to soothe him. 

He whispers to Emmett, who looks just as ready to jump in. When he settles down due to Carlisle’s instistance and Jasper’s influence, he taps his foot nervously against the floor. 

Ariel knows where this is going; she knows what Rosalie’s response will be. She can feel it growing in the air around her; she can also feel Jasper’s influence spreading, but Rosalie doesn’t seem to react much to it. Her entire body is tense as her nerves start to snap.

“So _ theoretically, _ ” Rosalie’s words drip with venom, “Even you and Carlisle could have kids.”

The rest of the coven’s attention seems to snap immediately to Ariel at Rosalie’s statement, as if to see if she would deny it. Something unrecognizable shines in Carlisle’s eyes as his eyes darken with swirling shadows and  _ want _ . Ariel swallows thickly and she knows that if she answers honestly, it will set Rosalie off; she also isn’t sure how Carlisle will take the information. But she still answers sincerely, nodding.

“No one in my family has ever had children with a vampire - at least to my knowledge - and even human hybrids like Charlie are rare, but theoretically - _ theoretically, yes.” _

Carlisle hesitates; looking at Ariel with a mix of both shock, hope, and confusion. Ariel’s statement takes them all off guard just enough that no one else is fast enough to stop Rosalie from throwing her fist until it’s too late.

Ariel knows how this goes; she’s done it with her whole family more than once. That sometimes, you need to get it out. Amenadiel has been a punching bag for displaced aggression for everyone at least once; including her own anger. Being the second oldest, she’s also faced the brunt of her siblings’ rage at times, having lost count of how many times Remiel and her have brawled it out.

So she does not dodge or move. Ariel barely even flinches when Rosalie’s fist connects with her face. Unlike the crystallized skin of vampires, Ariel’s skin doesn’t crack, splinter or shatter like glass. Instead, Rosalie immediately draws back clutching her hand with a pained hiss, her knuckles immediately shattering, her skin splintering around her hand.

“That’s not fair,” Rosalie hisses at her.

Alice whispered Rosalie’s name softly with an empathetic pained tone. Edward barely watches, tension in his shoulders, everyone’s thoughts are screaming so loud that it makes it hard for him to concentrate; Rosalie’s pained thoughts being the loudest  _ (It’s not fair, how come they can have kids? How come she can simply change what she’s not?) _ next to Carlisle’s own thoughts of having children  _ (It’s - is it really possible?). _

Jasper looks as pained as he feels, everyone’s emotions soaring around him and caging against his skin. Emmett watches like a trapped frightened puppy, visibly distraught and unsure of what to do, but sharing the pain that his mate is projecting. The growls that build in his throat don’t go unnoticed nor does the darkness seeping in his eyes. The primal beast claws at him to leap at Ariel for hurting Rosalie, but a mix of Jasper trying to project as much calmness as he can and the almost ethereal energy projecting off of Ariel makes him stay put. 

Carlisle watches Emmett closely, a low growl building in his own throat; a warning. Emmett glances at him, just long enough that Carlisle knows that Emmett heard it. If Emmett jumps on Ariel, all hell would break loose. And while he is trying to figure out a way to deescalate the situation, he is also trying to process the information that Ariel just admitted to. 

That - as theoretical as it may be - there is a slim chance of it being possible for them having kids. It is something that he never even dreamed of - he never even entertained the thought of children in all his time as a vampire; beyond that, their bond hasn’t been consummated yet, as strong as his affection is toward her. Which makes even the possibility of children so foreign. 

But he is very much limited in what he can do with a child snoring softly against his chest; a child that Ariel specifically wanted him to protect. She knew that this may happen and she is trusting him to keep Charlie away from this if it escalated, as painful as the idea of even leaving her to fight alone makes him.

Ariel takes a step forward and the rest of the coven watches as Rosalie doesn’t stop her. Neither of them make any aggressive moves toward the other; with Ariel almost glowing as she looks at Rosalie with compassion, understanding. Ariel takes Rosalie’s cracked hand, calmly holding it between both of her palms and murmuring softly as she focuses her energy on Rosalie’s injury.

“I know it’s not fair,” Ariel admits, “I’m sorry that God is not fair.”

Ariel removes her hands, revealing Rosalie’s cracked skin to be healed; perfect and porcelain as it was before. Rosalie flexes her hand experimentally, but her expression has softened as the tension starts to disperse. 

“That didn’t even hurt, did it,” Rosalie asks dryly, eying the way Ariel’s skin seems unaffected.

“I - I felt it,” Ariel admits but at Rosalie’s observant eyes beating into hers, she continues sheepishly, “ _ -Yes, it hurt _ , but it won’t do much damage.”

“If I continued to hit you, would it do any damage,” Rosalie’s voice is lighter, more playful than vicious.

“-Eventually, but it wouldn’t last long or kill me.” Ariel hums thoughtfully, “If you feel like you need to continue, we can go outside.”

Rosalie grins, but makes no effort to continue hitting her. The tension leaves the room as they share a mutual understanding and respect for each other, with neither of them holding a grudge against the other for the argument. Ariel seems completely casual and unaffected by the fact that she got punched by a vampire in the first place; moving past it smoothly.

Carlisle relaxes, a soft weary grin on his face. His eyes shine with a bronze gold, fresh from a hunt, as he looks at Ariel. Emmett, however, takes the chance to immediately move from his spot, tackling his mate with all of his strength. He lifts Rosalie up in the air immediately, gushing over her and how ‘badass’ she was. With the sound of their teasing and laughter, the rest of the coven relaxes. 

“That was very dignified of you,” Carlisle comments softly as Ariel strolls over, the rest of the coven occupied with each other as Rosalie shouts at Emmett for messing up her hair. “You could have dodged her punch.”

“I could have,” Ariel hums thoughtfully and Carlisle relishes in the soft kiss that she presses to his lips, “But that wouldn’t have solved anything. She needed to get it out and I let her. My siblings and I are always fighting among ourselves. Always brawling our issues out until someone bleeds or concedes, at least that’s how it was when my sister, Remmie and I would fight. We would give it our all until someone came out the victor. The tricky part is dodging the weapons.”

Her tone is light-hearted and joking despite the serious implications of what she says, the undertones being noticed by Carlisle as his eyes become hooded with concern. Misreading his expression, Ariel immediately backtracks.

“-I did not have any plans of engaging with her, not like that. If she needed to hit me a few times to get her frustration out, then I was fully prepared to let her and to heal her if she broke her hand. Some of my younger siblings did that all the time to get their anger out.”

Rosalie glances at her, overhearing the statement immediately; her eyes softening as Emmett places a hand on her shoulder, murmuring soft whispers against her ear. Regret pulls in her chest for having thrown the punch in the first place, especially considering that Ariel never hit her back and healed her despite her being the aggressor. 

Edward glances toward them; picking up on Rosalie’s (if somewhat mild) thoughts of regret and Carlisle’s pained thought process as he thinks carefully about Ariel’s family. An image of a large man in the hospital comes to Carlisle’s mind; Edward picks up that this is at least one of her brothers as Carlisle thinks about the harm a brawl between them or any of her other family members could do to her. Even Edward admits that it is a sobering thought. Rosalie may have thrown the punch, but it is the first time he’s really seen her that visibly distraught. They may joke around - push each other into trees here and there, lose a few bets where the loser loses their arm for a day, but they never seriously hurt each other out of anger. He cannot imagine if any of his siblings were to brawl it as seriously with each other; especially with whatever weapons Ariel’s siblings may have used.

“Families shouldn’t have to brawl it out or fight each other until someone gets seriously hurt,” Carlisle states simply, “I’m sorry that yours did.”

Ariel pauses, processing the statement as if it is something that no one has ever told her that it wasn’t okay. Linda made her oppositions clear on aggressive, angry spars or displaced aggression, but Ariel always thought that was coming more from the psychologist standpoint and never thought much of it. Despite even Linda stating that, no one has actually apologized to her for it. No one has actually said that they’re sorry it happened.

The idea of it in itself is foreign; brawls were always the way most of her siblings solved their issues, or the way they would take out their frustration on her for whatever reason it was that time (especially if Amenadiel wasn’t present for them to take their frustration on). Usually Remiel, who had a habit of bringing her weapons. Though they all still loved each other dearly and she wouldn’t want anything negative to happen to them.

Come to think of it, she has yet to ever see the Cullens fight; aside from the emotion-fueled punch of Rosalie, she’s never seen them seriously try to maim each other or hurt each other in spars.

“I -” She finds herself at a loss for words before she takes a deep breath and continues with deep sincerity and peace, eyes glistening. “ _ Thank you.” _

* * *

  
  


Carlisle helps Ariel take Charlie and his things back home, both of them taking their time walking there so as to not risk waking up Charlie. With the storm gone, the night is silent and clear; neither of them particularly care about the mud that they may be trekking through.

Carlisle still carries the boy close to his chest as he snores soundly, his small arms wrapped tightly around Carlisle. Despite the privacy and the silence that’s stretched between them, Carlisle can’t bring himself to ask any of the questions that are swirling in his mind; not about the odd language he heard during the baseball game, the entire conversation that she had with Rosalie,  _ Ariel’s answer to Rosalie,  _ or anything else still lingering in his mind - or in his study back home, as is the case for the particularly odd feather that Charlie gifted him. 

“Carlisle - about what I said,” Ariel finally speaks hesitantly, her eyes avoiding his as a light flush spreads across her cheeks. “I’m not sure if we actually can - “

Carlisle stops her from continuing, despite the hope that had built in his chest from her confession, he knows that realistically, the odds are unlikely. Vampires hybrids are small, unlikely rumors at best; and that is with _ humans _ . He isn’t sure what Ariel is capable of, given her explanation of how Charlie came to be with her brother, but he knows that is just as impossible. Especially since Charlie himself seems more like a miracle than a common occurrence. 

Unafraid to meet her gaze as he looks toward her with understanding, his eyes glistening. 

“I’m fully aware that it is likely impossible,” Carlisle whispers softly, his voice strained, “I’ve come to terms with that a very long time ago, my dear.”

Ariel sucks in a breath through clenched teeth, a tight pain spreading through her chest as uncertainty plagues her. Charlie squirms in Carlisle’s grasp with soft whimpers, his little brows furrowing. They both stop, immediately starting to soothe the small boy. She almost sweeps her nephew up from him, but Carlisle simply adjusts his grip and whispers soft comforts that tame Charlie’s squirming. A heavy rock settles in her gut seeing the ease in which he handles Charlie. 

“He’s a fussy child, isn’t he,” Carlisle remarks with a soft smile.

Ariel runs her fingers through Charlie’s unruly hair, fixing it the best that she can. A few strands are caked lightly with dirt and mud from the previous storm and him playing in so many puddles. She doesn’t have the heart to wake him up just to give him a bath when they get home. She makes a note that after his bath tomorrow morning that everything - from his sheets to his pillows - will have to be washed.

“He’s an empath,” Ariel explains softly, “My whole family is to a degree, some of us being more attuned to it than others. Similar to Jasper, I suppose. Charlie’s so young that he’s even more sensitive to everyone’s feelings and all the energy around him. He’ll learn how to control it as he gets older, but for now, he feels  _ everything  _ and  _ everyone. _ It wears him out very fast and it is very much past his bedtime.”

“Your family has gifts,” Carlisle asks, looking at her curiously. 

She hums thoughtfully, an absent look in her eyes as she still focuses on trying to fix Charlie’s hair, getting as much hunks of dirt out of it as she can, “-Yes and no. No, empathy isn’t necessarily a special gift as it is just something that we all have. But yes, each of my siblings all have their own special ability, just like your coven.”

“-Like how you healed Rosalie’s hand,” Carlisle presses lightly.

Content with getting the dirt out of Charlie’s hair, they continue making their way to Ariel’s house slowly and carefully. Their conversation continues as Ariel sways as she chooses her words carefully, but everything she says is sincere and honest. Carlisle listens to each word with rapt attention, storing away all the information that she gives freely.

“-The healing is something we can all do, given that we’re -” Ariel pauses as she tries to find the right word, “- _ Unless something happens _ , we can all heal. But we all have something about us that makes us different. My younger brother, Lucy, can draw out people’s desires, forces them to face their demons, so to say by making them tell the truth about whatever it is that they’re feeling deep down.”

She pauses before continuing carefully, “- Uriel was a lot like Alice, but he didn’t get visions. He saw  _ patterns.  _ The epitome of the butterfly effect, Uriel could tell you exactly what butterfly’s wings caused a hurricane.”

There’s a bit of strain in her voice when she mentions Uriel, the death of his existence still lingering with her; but it is not pained as it would have been before. Instead, it feels more reminiscent and melancholic. Carlisle notices the change, notices the ease that she mentions her younger brother.

The idea of being able to see that much is fascinating and eager to learn more, Carlisle still looks at her curiously and in wonder, “What can you do?”

He hopes that she won’t avoid the question; that she won’t tease and flirt with him, but actually be straightforward for once. He  _ wants _ to know. He  _ wants _ to know everything about her - about her family - and he treasures each bit that she shares with him. 

Her eyes twinkle as she smiles coyly and just as Carlisle thinks that she is going to avoid him, she glances over toward the treeline. Carlisle can smell animals nearby, but he doubts that they are going to come close with him near. Instead, Ariel calmly urges the animals to come out, with a soft, commanding voice that enchants its way through the air. 

The animals listen; he watches as a deer emerges, not hesitating to walk past him to come to Ariel’s open, outstretched palm. Charlie stirs in her grasp, opening his eyes up just enough to see the deer, grinning and tiredly patting at its head before his eyes drift close once more. Ariel uses her free hand to continue to scratch at the deer’s ears, looking at Carlisle carefully.

“There’s a lot of things that you can call what I can do,” Ariel admits, “But Lucy likes to say that I’m the alpha, I like to call it the power of suggestion. It’s an almost dominating voice that is hard to deny - a suggestion that makes them inclined to do. Animals will listen to me, people will too. The more simpler the mind, the easier it is.”

Ariel continues hesitantly, “ _ Vampires. _ Newborns are tricky since they’re like babies - they don’t really listen to anyone. But it  _ is _ doable.”

It almost feels eerily similar to a certain vampire that he knows; his friend hidden away with the Volutri, but it disgustingly feels even more similar to the pack of wolves on the reservation. He can’t keep track of who the current alpha is of the pack, not having much contact with them outside of when it is absolutely needed and the few conversations with Billy Black. But from what he has learned from them, it seems oddly similar to what their pack alpha can do with the rest of the pack; give orders that cannot be denied.

“It has to be within reason,” Ariel continues, noticing the furrowed look on Carlisle’s face, “And some stronger minds can fight back, but even my siblings tend to listen to me if I used that voice. Animals always listen, which makes shapeshifters and werewolves pretty easy to.”

Carlisle wonders if she knows about the wolves on the reservation; she hasn’t said anything about them nor done anything during their conversation with Billy Black to make him think that she does. Which makes him wonder just how many other shapeshifters and werewolves are there out there and if the Volutri even know about them. Then again, he doubts that Volutri even knows about her kind either.

“More complex minds are harder or when someone is overcome with so much emotion that it doesn’t matter what I say.” Ariel continues thoughtfully, “When it comes to more sentient beings, I can’t do a lot at one time. Maybe two newborns if I’m lucky, maybe a few vampires. I haven’t done it on vampires in a very long time, I may be a bit rusty.”

It is a bit comforting that she likely wouldn’t be able to command his whole family, even if he knows that it would never be needed. Deep down, he knows that she would never do anything to hurt his family; a family that he can see is starting to grow on her. He only hopes that growth continues for her to fully embrace them.

Lost in her explanation, her eyes seemed glossy as she continues openly,

“I can only ever get one sibling to listen to me at a time, which as you can imagine, didn’t help me very much back home with a large family.”

At the mention of her family, Carlisle thinks, remembering what happened when her brother visited and the conversation that ensued from it. As they finally reach her house, he speaks up, trying to carefully choose his words. Their open and easy conversation is the most they have really touched on the subject of her family and her species and he has a feeling that this is one of his few chances to continue the conversation and ask questions.

“-Your brother, Amenadiel, mentioned that you all were made to help people.”

The pain that immediately glosses over Ariel’s eyes as she glances at him makes him realize that it was something that he should not have said. He got too ahead of himself and misspoke; it wasn’t his place to ask something like that. But before he can get all of that out, before he can apologize, Ariel speaks.

“- Originally, we were. I suppose I just got the memo a little later than everyone else,” Ariel’s voice wavers as she tries to make light of the subject, but the bitterness still drips in her words. “I’ve never been my family’s favorite. I was too hateful, too mean, and they all thought that I was made to just hurt and kill people.”

Ariel’s casual confession of it makes Carlisle ache as he takes a step forward, wanting to comfort her, but the child in his grasp stirs. Ariel turns, her face bright pink with tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. She hesitantly and carefully takes Charlie from Carlisle before he can protest. 

“We become the monsters that others think we are if we’re not careful, especially if it is so easy to misplace your own anger onto another species that didn’t deserve it.” Ariel softly admits, “But you - you’ve always been a good man from the start, Carlisle, and you don’t let others' views of you stop you from doing what you think is right. You have such a good soul, Carlisle. I suppose that one of the reasons I -”

She stops as she realizes what she is saying. Her face grows warm and frozen as a pregnant pause passes between them, their eyes meeting as they both wait for her to finish her statement. Despite all the feelings that have passed between them, all the flirting, the teasing, and even the openness that they have expressed with each other, a confession has never been made. Nothing dramatically confessed in the rain or in the bedroom, no passionate monologue or casual acceptance.

Carlisle watches her carefully, he can feel the need to confirm their relationship, their feelings for each other, clawing at his chest. Hope gleams in his eyes, even as they darken with want; the primal part of him wants her to admit it, wants her to say that she’s his and that he is hers, wants to ravish her and show her just what he has been wanting to do since they first started this back and forth cat and mouse. The gentleman in him, however, will wait for as long as she wants. He will wait until she is comfortable with stating their relationship, their feelings, and he will continue to wait until she is comfortable going even further with their relationship.

Ariel knows what she got herself into when she first started having feelings for Carlisle. She knows that this is not a game or a passing fling and knows where this will be heading, no matter how long it will take them to get there. But that doesn’t give her the right to deny Carlisle the answers that he needs; the answer to just how she feels about him. 

She continues confidently, her eyes glistening as they meet his gaze.

“ _ I love you, Carlisle.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots happened and lots explained oh boy, but I felt that all conversations in this chapter were conversations that needed to happen with Charlie's presence. Especially with Rosalie, I know that her reaction was that aggressive when Bella was pregnant, but in her eyes Ariel is still (somewhat) a stranger/outsider, and Ariel admitted that her kind can just be human if they want to have kids (an extra punch to the gut). 
> 
> I hope that I explained the whole hybrid thing well? They don't explain much on its possible in Lucifer, other than that Amenadiel was fallen so he was human enough to conceive a child. Amenadiel explains even within the show that he thinks that all angels forms are due to how they view themselves; hence how he was able to become an angel again after 'falling' and why it took Lucifer to forgive himself to have his wings. 
> 
> But Charlie is definitely part angel - not fully human as he technically would have been if Amenadiel was really 'human' and 'fallen.' Remiel shows up because she sensed another celestial on Earth. The demons sensed him from hell; and even try to kidnap him because he is part angel. So I think Amenadiel was human enough to have a child (with a woman that he already established that he loved + considering how thrilled he was at the news of Linda being pregnant and the chance of a child, it is not a stretch it say that he really wanted kids), but a lot more angel than he thought.
> 
> On that note, in theory, it would be possible for Carlisle and Ariel to have kids. Vampire hybrids with humans happen with a male vampire and a human female, so if Ariel were to actually become 'human enough to have a kid' then it would be possible. Or if just by wanting a child so bad, it could be possible. Whether or not that will happen - eh, there is a lot that needs to happen before that bucket of worms can fall open (from what is planned next/to what happens after Charlie leaves/to the fact that Ariel still hasn't told Carlisle what she is/to other stuff plus Bella still isn't in Forks).


	19. Passion and Little Owls

Carlisle’s eyes darken, a black shadow seeping over them at Ariel’s declaration. The beast inside of him - the primal, more vampiric part of him - stirs, clawing at him to do more. He  _ wants _ to do more, but despite the growl building in his chest, he is mindful of the sleeping child in her arms. But the passion blooming within him - the hope, the love - at her statement still grows wildly at the confirmation of just where they stand and how she feels about him.

“Carlisle,” Ariel’s voice is breathy, soft, and full of concern.

For a moment, he worries if he scared her, but there is no hint of fear in her eyes - just concern and worry. Mindful of the child still in her arms, Carlisle still manages to steal her lips in a bold passion. The action takes her off guard, he can feel her tense momentarily before relaxing and returning the kiss full-heartedly. Charlie is moved to her hip, but her free hand entangles itself in Carlisle’s hair, her fingers fluffing through blonde curls before her palm rests against his cheek. He leans into her palm, deepening their kiss briefly before they part. 

His hands go to her palm against his cheek, gently cupping it as he leads it to his lips to press a gentle kiss to the back of her palm.

_ “I love you too,”  _ Carlisle admits softly. Her hand returns to his cheek and he gently cusps his hand over hers, not wanting to let it go, relishing in the small contact. 

Ariel’s eyes glimmer with understanding, love and relief as he returns the sentiment. She smiles softly, neither of them having the nerve to break contact nor break the trance that they’ve entered. 

“I have to get Charlie to bed,” Ariel finally speaks up softly. Her fingertips brush against his cheek, leaving sparks in its wake. He trembles at the way her nails gently scrape against his skin, trailing soft circles. She doesn’t make any effort to pull away. 

“I don’t want to leave you,” Carlisle lightly protests before he can stop himself, his instincts being harder to ignore at the acceptance of their relationship. He doesn’t want to leave her - he wants to stay with her, hold her, make sure that she is okay.

Ariel’s fingers make their way to his scalp as she combs through soft blonde curls, humming softly, “Charlie is staying with me the whole weekend, I have a responsibility to him so nothing will -  _ escalate _ \- between us if you choose to stay.”

The breathy tone in her voice as she speaks makes him stir as she looks at him with want in her eyes. The tension stretches between them as they both try to hold themselves back, to not lose themselves in each other the way that they want to, to give in to their desires, as they struggle to be the grown adults that they are.

She gently bites at her bottom lip in thought, seemingly oblivious to the way the action affects him. 

“But,” she continues, her tongue darting out to lick against her lips; this time she  _ does _ notice the way it affects Carlisle, a coy smile stretching on her lips, “You are more than welcome to stay here with us.”

“Darling,” Carlisle purrs, amusement twinkling in his darkened eyes, “I’m not sure if that is a very good idea at the moment.”

Ariel laughs, the melodic sound surrounding them. She stops immediately, her laughter turning into soft giggles as Charlie stirs at all the noise. A flush spreads across her cheeks as she adjusts her grip on Charlie with one hand. Another goes to tuck her locks of hair that have strayed out of place. A nervous fluttering arises in her stomach, a shy smile replacing the more confident one as she realizes that she may overstep her boundaries.

“Yes - I suppose you’re right.”

Carlisle eyes the way that her flush spreads down her neck, briefly wondering just how far down it goes before his eyes go back to hers. Desperately -  _ very desperately -  _ he does  _ not _ want to leave her. He wants to stay, even if nothing but sweet moments would arise from staying. But he knows, from the crawling want that scratches under his skin and wants nothing more than to hold her, that it would be too dangerous and risky to stay. Especially with Charlie staying with her. 

“Perhaps another time, dear.” Carlisle suggests as he tries to reign himself back.

Disappointment flashes in her eyes and it makes his heart ache, but she gives a soft, almost sad smile. 

“Of course, Carlisle. I’ll see you another time, then.”

A quick kiss is pressed to his cheek, just at the corner of his mouth, before she’s gone in a flash, the front shut in front of him. Carlisle stands there for a moment, almost as if something would change, before he heads back to his family, cursing himself internally. 

* * *

Ariel slinks against the front door, leaning her head back with closed eyes as she sighs heavily, trying to get a hold of herself and the twisting fluttering in her gut. A sudden exhaustion sets in her bones and she tiredly looks at the child in her arms with a soft smile. A small fluttering of his eyelids makes her raise an eyebrow, looking at him closely with suspicion rising in her chest. The hand holding him goes to his sides and her fingertips tickle his stomach, immediately Charlie bursts into a series of giggles. 

“Little owl…” Ariel’s voice is soft, tired as she lightly scolds him before continuing with mild amusement, “Why were you pretending to be asleep, little bird?”

She stops tickling him, looking at him expectedly with a grin. Charlie’s large eyes blink innocently at her with a pout as he realizes that he got caught. Small fists cling to her shirt tightly as he curls against her, he buries his face into her, his voice muffled. 

“I get carried to bed,” Charlie’s answer is simple, direct, and full of innocence. 

Ariel’s laughter fills the room, her chest feeling lighter as the tension building in her dissolves. Ariel’s eyes gleam with adoration and love as she tickles his stomach playfully, “Little one, if you wanted to be carried, you could have asked.”

Charlie yawns and stretches in her arms, batting his eyelashes as he shyly admits that he didn’t think that anyone would say yes if he asked. Ariel hums in amusement as she adjusts her grip on him. Her birds swoop down from the nest that they’ve built in one of her plants and flutter around her shoulders curiously.

“If a certain little bird is awake,” Ariel continues, “Then that means a bath and a good stretch before bed.”

Charlie protests lightly, whining as he mumbles that he should have never been caught. But a nightly routine is a nightly routine - if Charlie is awake, then she doesn’t feel as bad about giving him a bath before bed.

A good stretch with his wings would do him good after keeping them in all day; a growing bird needs to exercise their wings as they grow. He’s not flying yet, but considering that he is still so young and the first hybrid in a long time, no one is sure when he will be able to fly. While it worries Amenadiel - and relieves Linda, who is stressed about the idea of such a small boy flying around carelessly - Ariel insists on the idea that his wings simply aren’t big enough yet to carry his weight. She may not know children, hybrid children even more so, she does know birds. 

She carries him up toward the bathroom, briefly glancing through the windows of the living room as she spots movement through the treeline. Her heart twists at the idea of it being Carlisle - though relieved that he returns her feelings full heartedly and their relationship being defined now, she is disappointed that he didn’t want to stay with them, especially after declaring that he didn’t want to leave. She’s even more disappointed in herself for not taking her chance to explain further on her species and a rock settles in her gut as she bemoans missing her chance to do so. 

_ But there’s been enough excitement for one night - it won’t do anyone any good to have so much unpacked at once. _

  
  


* * *

With Charlie all clean and ready for bed, Ariel makes sure that all of the curtains are closed firmly in his bedroom before she instructs her nephew to stretch his wings before going to bed. Charlie pouts, but with a  _ swoosh, _ two wings are stretched out behind him. His wings are taken after his father’s in color, being a shade of gray, though are not nearly as sharp-edged. Like a small bird’s wings, he still has fluff around the edges and still has its baby fuzz. Compared to his body, they still seem too small for his weight, making Ariel frown. 

Ariel guides him through his exercises - going up and down and stretching them out as far as he can as she inspects his wings closely. They have grown since she’s last seen them, not nearly as much baby fuzz. She runs her fingers down the edge of his wings, starting at his back, carefully. No bones out of place, nothing sore. Her fingers trail down the growing feathers. 

Something catches her eye immediately. While Charlie’s wings aren’t completely filled in yet, there is an awkward blank spot at the bottom of his wing. She runs over the spot carefully with a tight-lipped frown.

“Charlie,” her voice is stern and accusing, “Did you lose a feather today?”

Charlie slowly nods, but his eyes are firm on the ground as he shifts on his feet. Ariel sighs deeply, “What did we tell you, little bird?”

Ariel kneels down, her hands placed on his shoulders, “We do not show our wings to anyone but family. We do not give our feathers to anyone but family. Only the ones we love can understand us, little bird. You can’t simply give your feathers to a little friend -”

Charlie’s eyes snap toward Ariel, wide and defensive, “-But I gave it to family!”

Startled at the tone of his voice, Ariel blinks in confusion, her brows furrowed, as Charlie continues to defend himself. 

“-I got feathers for the doctor,” Charlie explains, his voice having a slight lisp that becomes more noticeable the more that he speaks. He speaks as firmly as a child can, looking up at her proudly, “So I gave him one of mine!”

He can only mean Carlisle, Ariel realizes with a groan, knowing that the doctor has an angel wing in his possession - which he would, Ariel knows that he is too observant to not know that it is important, somehow, someway, even if he may not understand why. While a part of her is selfishly relieved, hoping that it may lead to Carlisle coming to the conclusion of what she is on his own so that she is exempt from explaining it herself, the other part knows that logically, that it is not exactly very safe nor smart for Carlisle to have an angel wing. Especially since he doesn’t know what he really has. 

But the other implications of what he means hits her strongly, a flush spreading on her cheeks as she hopes that her actions with Carlisle didn’t give the child the wrong impression; and that this whole mess isn’t her fault.

“Little owl,” Ariel asks slowly, “Why did you think the doctor was family?”

Charlie looks close to tears, feeling strongly that he is being scolded for doing something that he was taught to do. Ariel’s heart aches as Charlie’s voice speaks up meekly, “Mama and Da.”

He shifts and averts his gaze as his cheeks puff up defensively, “Mama keeps fighting with Da about him in the family. Mama told me the doctor will be family.”

Ariel runs her fingers through her hair, almost nervously before she takes a deep breath and sweeps the child into her arms in a tight embrace, his wings disappearing as she holds him. She didn’t expect Amenadiel and Linda to fight over Carlisle, especially not where Charlie could hear them. A part of her aches knowing which side her brother was on in the argument. 

“I’m sorry, little owl,” Ariel hushes him as he hiccups on the bridge of tears. Her voice switches to Enochian, the language rumbling deep in her throat, “ _ You did good, little bird, it’s okay. Auntie Ariel is here.” _

Charlie settles down, his hiccups turning into yawns as she tucks him into bed. She spares a moment looking at him slumbering peacefully before she closes his bedroom door, wondering just how this all will come back to haunt her. 

* * *

Carlisle finds himself in his study - the rest of his family content to keep to themselves at such an odd hour of the night. It is odd how he may not have blood in his veins, yet he can feel the beginning of a headache at his temple. So much happening in such a short time. A lot to process, a lot to work his feelings through. 

He has already been subjected to Edward’s questioning looks and Alice’s mild interrogation; all the commotion settled as he formally announced his relationship with Ariel to them, going as far to explain that their bond is even more strong now that they’ve both confessed their hearts’ feelings to each other. He couldn’t answer them - not yet - on how far he intends to take the relationship. If he plans to marry her and the complications it could bring since she’s not a vampire. 

Though he knows exactly where he wants his relationship with her to go, he knows that this must be done delicately. Especially since she hasn’t confessed to him the true nature of her species; he knows that marriage, or at least something akin to it, is a possibility due to her brothers’ relationships with their partners. But there are still so many unknowns, especially considering that he tries hard not to think of what it could mean if the Volturi gets involved. 

He digs through his desk, pulling out a notebook and a feather. Both key clues to both his suspicions on Ariel’s true species. The notebook is full of paragraphs of notes, some crossed out and others circled, all gathered over his time with Ariel. One page is full of bullet points of importance; he carefully writes down a few of the things that he’s learned tonight.

_ Large family - close to two brothers, broken apart by death of younger brother. Two brothers have human partners. Affinity for nature. Physical prowess of a vampire - maybe stronger. Projects emotions (energy?) Immunity to vampire venom (- saliva ineffective during kiss) Possibility of human hybrid children. Unknown language. Power of suggestion, alpha to animals.  _

He crosses out some other notes, notes that turned from observation about her species to more personal observations that wouldn’t help him with his research - small side notes about her beauty, the color of her eyes, the sound of her laughter, the warmth of her skin. His fingers touch his lips absently, still able to taste her lips against his and he sighs deeply, still plagued by the fact that he left her tonight instead of staying. 

He glances toward the feather, picking it up delicately between two fingers.  _ Soft. _ Not like any bird he’s seen. Still gleaming in the low light, as if it glows no matter the environment.  _ Curious.  _ Suspicions build in the back of his mind as he sets the feather down to look through some of the books scattered on his desktop; he finds the one that he’s looking for and flutters through the pages before he finds the one he needs.

Neatly written at the the top of the encyclopedia's page:  _ supernatural beings with wings _


	20. Angel

Ariel can’t give an exact reason why she hasn’t told Carlisle what she is yet; she thinks that she gets close to it, but the words always seem to die in her throat as she remembers how none of the mortals ever took the news well. That Linda took nearly months to get over Lucifer being the devil and despite knowing that Amenadiel was an angel, she didn’t want to see him either. Chloe almost tried to get rid of Lucifer entirely. While she knows it isn’t fair for her to compare this to what she knows her brother faces; she knows that humans have such high ideals for the angels and such negative connotations to her brother; she still feels that ache deep in her chest at the idea of Carlisle not accepting what she is.

Logically, she knows that it is silly; Carlisle has done nothing but be accepting. He is _different._ Despite that aspect of their relationship never being fully explained, it has not stopped Carlisle from being more openly affectionate; a sentiment that she returns full-heartedly to the staff’s disappointment. 

While a majority of them had not been blind to the passing flirting from before, it is more apparent than ever that something changed between the two. The subtle glances in the hallway; the way Dr. Cullen always seems to have a hand on her back or her shoulder, Ariel’s more bold and brazen flirting that made more than one nurse blush when they heard it in passing. The female nurses immediately jump on the gossip and are quick to try to pry the details out of Ariel, who is more content ignoring them than sharing any personal secrets on her apparent relationship with the resident doctor.

The more regular patients that are familiar with them even comment on it, teasing the blonde doctor in passing in ways that the others aren’t brave enough to do so. After a couple of weeks of it, both of them could feel it weighing on them; getting tired from having to excuse themselves, dodging any questions, and having to brush off the comments. 

“Finally got her, huh, Carlisle?”

Charlie Swan grins wildly as he greets Carlisle Cullen. Carlisle sighs deeply as he realizes the attention that the sheriff’s statement grabs. He looks over toward Ariel, who is watching from a more safe distance with amusement. 

“Sheriff,” Carlisle politely greets, “What brings you in today? No more loose raccoons, I hope?”

  
Charlie shifts with mild embarrassment, “Just checking in, had a disturbance nearby -”

Ariel steps in, to Carlisle’s relief, with twinkling, concerned eyes and a soft frown. “A disturbance, nothing serious I hope?”

Ariel has always been the better one at diverging conversation. As she steers the sheriff’s interest away from their relationship, she gives Carlisle a sly wink. Carlisle looks at her in relief and a hand absently goes to the small of her back, bringing her close to him. Charlie scratches at the back of his neck, not noticing the silent exchange in front of him. 

“Nothing too serious, Mrs. Lower thought she saw someone out on her property. Found some footprints, but nothing was damaged. Nothing missing, so I think some of the high school kids were just messing around.”

Ariel and Carlisle share a look of concern, but considering the lack of bodies turning up unexpectedly, she doubts that it is another vampire. The chances of it being another _vegetarian_ vampire is even less likely. The more she thinks about it; the more likely it is that Charlie is right about it just being some teenagers messing around. Still, something about it just doesn’t settle right in her gut. 

“-We think one of them got busted up a bit,” Charlie continues, “Probably tripped on one of the tree stumps.”

“Well hopefully those kids will be alright,” Ariel finally speaks up.

“-If they get caught, they won’t be,” Charlie snorts, “I’ve dealt with enough rowdy teens to know that there’s no worse punishment than calling their folks on them. Though, Renee is always going on about how she _wishes_ Bella messed around more, but if you ask me, I am more than content that Bella’s not a part of that sort of crowd.”

Ariel glances at him curiously at the mention of his daughter; though he doesn’t speak of her often, he always does so fondly and almost sadly. This time, however, there is something different in his tone. Hope. Excitement. 

“How is Bella doing, Sheriff,” Carlisle asks casually, the shared look between them lets her know that he noticed the change in Charlie’s tone as well. 

“She’s doing great,” a soft smile stretches across Charlie’s face as he eyes glow with fondness, “Coming out to visit me next school year. She’ll be starting at the high school, same year as your kids, Carlisle.”

Carlisle briefly wonders why Ariel’s eyes are gleaming with such mischief, as she knows something that he doesn’t. As their conversation with the Sheriff briefly continues, he doesn’t get a chance to question her on it until well after Charlie leaves. 

Carlisle leans into her teasingly, whispering gently into her ear. He doesn’t miss the way it makes her shiver as she looks at him with twinkling eyes. 

“Should I be concerned as to why you looked so excited about the Sheriff’s daughter coming to visit?”

Ariel softly laughs, the sound music to his ears as she gently nudges him, “Carlisle if it is one thing that I have learned, it is that her being in the same year as your kids is bound to bring trouble, some way, somehow, and from my brother’s experiences with humans, it is bound to bring a lot of _drama_ our way. You better prepare your kids now.”

Ariel still laughs, placing a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips before she disappears down the hall to continue her shift. Carlisle watches her in amusement, before brushing off the comment, knowing that the chances of his children entangling themselves in human drama is a ridiculous idea.

  
  


* * *

Ariel frowns at the patient chart in her hands; _James Briar._ A handwritten note from one of the other nurses makes a comment that makes her stomach turn. _A priest._ She can feel the headache already beginning, but despite the way her own nerves are being shot, she can’t help but feel more concerned about the fact that the doctor listed to attend Father Briar is Carlisle. 

They’ve only briefly touched on his past as a priest, but the past is always a touchy subject as it is for anyone. She hopes that this won’t bring more grief to him, even more than she hopes that a priest won’t expose her. She takes a deep breath, settles her nerves and goes into the room with the hope that she can get in and out.

Father Briar looks exactly as most priests do - down to the black outfit and white collar, though he is younger than she expected. She can see why some of the nurses attending to him were giggling after leaving his room; he certainly looks like a charming bookworm, complete with the soft attractive features and a pair of suiting glasses. While she may not be attracted to him, she is certainly not blind; and she knows that he _is_ the type of many of the small-town nurses who are desperate for new meat.

He doesn’t seem injured at first glance, mostly due to his calm composure, until she realizes that he is holding his left arm that is bleeding through his shirt. He seems unbothered by the injury, sitting calmly as he looks out the room’s window. When he finally notices her presence, he jumps slightly before breaking out into a huge grin. His eyes light up and any hopes of him not realizing what she is is dashed at the recognition in his eyes.

“Father,” Ariel greets evenly, bowing her head slightly in greeting, “A long way from the Vatican, I see.”

Father Briar laughs, though the bitterness that flashes in his eyes don’t go unmissed and Ariel eyes him warily.

“You could say I’m on an extended vacation,” he winks cheerfully at her, “Been traveling through the countryside looking for something…. _A journey of self-discovery of sorts_.”

Ariel is already pulling on gloves, gesturing for his arm. Instead of simply lifting his arm toward her to exam, he opts instead to unbutton the black shirt of his uniform and slip it off before Ariel can stop him. She watches in bewilderment as she starts to realize just why he’s not the Vatican and a part of her really hopes that this is not going to end up with a strict conversation with the Board.

“Did you happen to find what you were looking for, Father?”

Trying to get through the interaction as best as she can, she keeps the calm expression on her face despite the crawling sensation that itches under her skin; the uneasiness of the whole situation just not settling right with her. Something nags at her that she can’t quite place. The odd uneasiness grows at their close proximity as she examines the wound for any infection.

“I like to think that I did,” he says smoothly, something shifting in his gaze that makes her flinch as she reminds herself that she doesn’t hurt humans anymore. Besides, she cannot imagine how angry her father would be if she hurt a priest. “Though I should have prepared myself for such a beautiful angel.”

Ariel tries not to grimace, forcing a smile on her face as she attends to him, trying to get through a somewhat normal procedure while ignoring his comments and not very subtle flirtations that makes her wonder what exactly they’re teaching priests nowadays. Father Briar continues to speak as if he doesn’t notice the way she’s trying to block him out, an easy smile on his face that would have been charming to most people; but with her heart completely belonging to Carlisle, the entire interaction comes off as annoying. The longer she stays in the room, the more that her frustration starts to build in her chest; the uneasiness being replaced with irritation.

“Well, I think you’ve done wonders, Beautiful.” Father Briar continues, his eyes soft, “Just as one would expect, Angel.”

“Careful, Father,” Ariel responds through a locked jaw and tense teeth, “I’m not sure the Vatican would approve of your behavior.”

She is not very subtle when she ‘accidentally’ nudges him as she walks past him, snapping her gloves off. 

“What the Vatican doesn’t know, doesn’t hurt them, Angel.” Father Briar replies easily in a way that makes her want to tear her hair out or go into a divine, berserk rage. 

She is almost too eager when she finally gets the chance to leave, rolling her shoulders as she mutters under her breath. Relief floods through her when she spots Carlisle walking down the hall, the dark shadows in his eyes is the only indication that he heard any of what was transpiring in the room. With her ‘conversation’ with the priest being somewhat vague and flirtatious, she hopes that Father Briar’s use of the name angel can be passed for an unwanted pet name. 

When he gets closer, almost closing her in against the wall protectively, she can hear the low growl in his throat, making it very clear that he heard exactly the type of flirtations that the priest was making. 

“Are you alright,” Carlisle’s voice is low. 

Carlisle’s head spins as Ariel places a brief kiss on his lips, a palm on his cheek. Her touch calms him some, but he can still hear the priest’s words and flirtations echoing in his ears.  _ Beautiful, Angel, sweetheart.  _ Pet names that make the venom in his blood boil, making him want to just claim her to make sure that everyone knows that she is taken. 

“Of course, darling, but I feel I should warn you that your next patient is a handful.”

Carlisle growls slowly, curling into her. Ariel glances around thankful that there are no nurses around to see them as Carlisle continues to press her against the wall. While he was concerned over the priest’s use of the word  _ angel,  _ which made his research pop into his mind over the beings, he highly doubts that such a flirtatious priest’s words could hold any truth to them. Still, something about it makes his mind whirl, but he swallows his tongue, holds back his questions, holds back what he wants to know. Even if his growing suspicions are right, it is her place to tell him, not his. He will wait as long as it takes for her to be comfortable enough to come forward.

“I could hear it,” Carlisle mutters into the nape of her neck, “I cannot say that I appreciated it.”

Ariel snorts, “That, darling, would make two of us. Though I should warn you that you will appreciate it even less when you walk in.” Carlisle glances at her warily and she continues, “He opted to remove his shirt instead of simply rolling up his sleeve and to my knowledge, he has yet to put it back on. I can already hear the complaints from the Board.”

Carlisle can’t help but agree as he continues to hold her for a moment - for both of their comfort. Her discomfort from the interaction is visible and noticeable. It makes his own distaste for the new patient grow, until Ariel finally pulls away with a soft smile. 

“You still have to tend to him, darling,” Ariel finally speaks up, “The unfortunate life of a doctor, I’m afraid.”

At Carlisle’s hesitation, she urges him gently with the reassurance that she will be okay despite the rock that is still settled in her gut as she can’t help but shake the negative feeling that has crept up under her skin about the priest.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	21. Watchful Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone on FF asked, but I did not have an actress in mind when I created Ariel. I would say if I had to pick an actress, the closest one I could see would be Rachael McAdams when she played a character named Maureen Hope in Southpaw.

Carlisle’s impression of the priest didn’t approve through the appointment; if it is possible, it decreased the longer that he was in the company of Father Briar. Knowing the way that the supposed priest interacted with Ariel had already left a piss-poor impression, but he had still forced a smile and tried his best to not let his mask slip as he stitched up the man’s arm.

Father Briar’s topic of conversation always manages to tread back to Ariel. Comments about the  _ beautiful nurse that just left. _ Asking her name. Asking when she gets off work. Comments about her  _ absolutely glowing.  _ Each comment makes Carlisle grind his teeth behind a tight lipped smile as he tends to the wound. 

He tries to steer the conversation away from his beloved often, but when asked about his wound, the priest refuses to give any more explanation other than he got it while hiking before continuing to grill Carlisle on Ariel.

The priest’s pet names for Ariel continue throughout the appointment -  _ Angel _ being the most used one. The more he uses it, the more Carlisle feels almost silly for thinking the priest used it to imply something other than just a pet name. The name still nags on him each time it’s used - from the fact that Briar is using it to refer to Ariel and to the fact that it just makes him think more and more of his research.

He spent the entire night flipping through books, jotting down notes. Having his research narrowed in on beings with wings, it was easier to focus more on each individual being that came up.  _ Alkonost. Harpies. Tengu.  _ He was almost sold on her being an  _ alkonost  _ just from her enchanting laughter and voice until he remembered her brothers. He eventually narrowed it down to two things.

The  _ Anemoi  _ were a possibility - a  _ heavy  _ possibility, though most of the information in his books were in Latin or Greek, both languages he is a bit rusty on, it would explain why she has a lot of family, wings, and why her and Amenadiel seem so starkly different from their appearance to their interests to abilities; though he isn’t sure what Amenadiel is capable of, Ariel made it clear that her affinity to be able to talk to beats is unique to her, but that her entire family had gifts.

But sometimes the simplest answer is the right answer. The simplest answer would be for her to be an angel \- as baffling, confounding, and _brilliant_ as that may seem. There is not much written on angels so he had turned to the Bible that was tucked away in his drawers. It would make sense. A large family. Unique abilities. He does not know her exact age, but she has alluded to them all being older much like his own coven. He isn’t sure what her other siblings' names are, but he is familiar with the name Amenadiel just as he is familiar with the name Ariel. Both archangels of the Lord. Ariel being the archangel of nature.

But he cannot make that last leap of faith - not without concrete proof or without her telling him directly. For the sake of his family and his sanity, he has swallowed that possibility deep down because of the larger implications it could bring. Edward’s constant bemoaning about their damnation rings in his ears.

“You and that beautiful angelic nurse seem pretty cozy together,” Father Briar comments casually, his eyes focused on the way Carlisle stitches up his arm. Carlisle glances up at him briefly to see Father Briar wink at him suggestively; his jaw locks as he grinds his teeth.

“I have to admit, it is a pity.” Father Briar continues when Carlisle doesn’t offer any comment. 

Carlisle just finishes up, doing the best that he can to block out the priest’s voice despite the way that just hearing it makes the monster in him  _ claw _ at his insides and his stomach turns at the  _ audacity  _ of this man being a  _ priest. _

“-You’re going to have to keep a close eye on her or I might just steal her away.”

**_You will not._** Carlisle slips; a bit ungraceful for the vampire doctor. The needle he used to stitch up the patient crumbles in his palm. He is careful to keep his fist closed to hide the evidence as he turns toward Father Briar. The priest looks at him evenly, matching the look in his eyes, a darkness creeping in his irises that Carlisle almost forgot was possible for humans. But as quick as the look was there, it is gone.

Father Briar laughs at the comment as he takes his leave, going as far as patting Carlisle on the back as if it is all just a joke as a nurse in the hall guides him to the checkout. 

Carlisle watches after him as he swallows a growl in the back of his throat as he makes a solid promise to watch over Ariel carefully, the priest’s comment leaving him rattled and unsettled. A strong distrust of the man crawls overs his skin, the unshaking feeling that he’s up to no good. That he needs to  _ protect _ her from him.

He discards the shattered needle into the trash bin, walking down the hall with a deadly precision on the lookout for Ariel as he decides that it would be best to take the rest of the day off - preferably with Ariel. 

  
  


* * *

Ariel watches Father Briar carefully as he lingers in the waiting room. He spent no time chatting up the nurse at the checkout area before immediately, chatting up a few of the waiting patients. Every single one of them just ate up his charisma, smiling as if they don’t realize the way that he keeps glancing over at her. Before finally, he starts to make his way toward her.

But he doesn’t get the chance. He gets cut off halfway as Carlisle appears in between them, his back toward Father Briar. Carlisle faces Ariel evenly, placing a hand on her shoulder as he gently guides her away. The only indication that he even notices the priest’s presence is the glance that he throws him over his shoulder before they leave the hospital together. 

“Carlisle,” Ariel’s voice is uncertain, dripping with a bit of worry as she notices the steel gaze in Carlisle’s eyes as he guides her out of the hospital and toward his car. She stops suddenly, taking him by surprise as she looks at him evenly and firmly.

Unafraid of the protective and almost haunting look in his eyes, she plants her feet firmly on the ground. Carlisle takes a solid look at her before rolling his shoulders and taking a gentle step forward, his eyes softening as he rests his forehead against her shoulder. 

His bold move in the parking lot, in the midst of a work day, takes her by surprise momentarily as her eyes glance toward the fleeting gazes that drift their way. 

“I signed us both off for the rest of the day,” Carlisle explained, his voice soft, “I - I needed a break after tending to Father Briar. The things he said to you and during his appointment are -  _ inappropriate.” _

Ariel takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment before she looks toward Carlisle with love, her fingers tangling themselves in his hair, “Darling, I know that he was a lot to handle - for the both of us. He had a way of getting under our skin, but you cannot make decisions for me. Especially when it comes to work.”

Carlisle looks up at her and she smiles softly as they share a brief kiss. As they part, their foreheads still touch as she gazes into his eyes, her hand cupping his cheek as one of his hands gently cups the back of her head. She can feel his fingers drifting through her hair.

“ _ Love, _ ” Ariel speaks softly and she feels the way it makes him shudder, “You know I am still working on being as good as you are. If you need to leave, that is fine, but when it comes to  _ my _ work,  _ my shift,  _ it needs to be  _ my _ decision or  _ our _ decision.”

Carlisle hums before he speaks up, closing his eyes as he rests against her, “You’re right, darling, I apologize for the brash decision, I should have spoken to you first.”

He relishes in the soft kiss she places just under his eye before they part. The bitterness and the bad taste from the priest diminish as Ariel takes the lead, glowing as she smiles back at him, holding his hand firmly. She grins wildly at him as they head toward the car.

“Since you’ve signed us both off for the day, tell me,  _ Dr. Cullen, _ what exactly do you have planned for us?”

He opens the car door for her, the crawling sensation easing in his chest the more that he sees her smile.

“My dear that is a dangerous question to ask given that some of the plans I have in mind are rather _ scandalous _ .”

His cheeky wink sends her over the edge as she lets out bellowing laughter. Her twinkling laughter still fills the car as they depart from the hospital, blissfully unaware of the pair of eyes gleaming from behind glasses watching them.

  
  


* * *

Ariel is surprised when Carlisle pulls into a familiar spot, tucked away from view near the treeline. The getaway that she whisked him off to on their first date. Her mind floods with the memory, the sensation of him holding her so tightly and the fleeting kisses shared against his lips. Her heart begins to race and he doesn’t miss the flush that spreads across her cheeks.

He opens her door for her gracefully, making a show of bowing to her before he races off toward the woods, the sound of his laughter trailing behind him. Her surprise that he actually meant what he said earlier gives her a disadvantage as she chases after him toward the clearing that she had taken him to before.

She does catch up to quickly, though not as quickly or as gracefully as she would have liked, still in the scrubs from her work day. The closer she gets to him, the more wolfish her grin becomes as they near the clearing. 

Carlisle turns toward her, grinning, but barely has a chance to react as she knocks him down into the clearing, her melodic laughter ringing in his ears as he finds himself knocked onto the ground. It is an odd thing, he notes, that he is not capable of breathing and yet feels like the air has been knocked from him as she pins him to the ground, hovering over him dangerously. 

“Don’t think this means that you’re faster than me just because you cheated, love.”   
  


The light in her eyes dance as her hair drips over her shoulders and creates a curtain around them, creating a mock sense of privacy as their noses barely graze against each other. He can feel the warmth of her breath against his skin and a dangerous warning builds in the back of his throat. She can feel it rumble beneath her, but her hands have situated on his wrists firmly. She doesn’t waver when he tries to break free and he is pleasantly surprised that she is stronger than he expected her to be.

She hums mischievously when dark shadows start to inch their way across his eyes and he voices a low, dark warning that she doesn’t bother to heed. She loves seeing the way that his eyes go dark and that particular gleam glosses over them that make it harder and harder for her to deny the sensation that builds against the pounding in her chest.

“Ariel,” Carlisle draws out her name cautiously. 

She snaps back out of the daze that she’s entered, blinking back to reality to realize just how much closer she has gotten to him and how she has pressed herself against him tightly, the grip on his wrists tightened. Her lips are barely touching against his, her breath hot against his mouth. She sees Carlisle’s heated, steel gaze meeting her eyes. 

“When I said something scandalous planned, I have to admit that this isn’t entirely what I had in mind,” Carlisle’s voice is a low and soft rumble that vibrates against her.

“Are you against it?”

Ariel whispers it softly. One of her hands takes both of his wrists, still pinning him firmly as her other fingers trail lightly against his cheek. She offers an out - a reason to stop where this is heading. She knows what happened last time. She won’t be able to hold herself back a second time; she regretted turning away before, she will not regret it now. 

He can hear the way that her heart beat picks up, the way it flutters  _ for him. _

“ _ No.” _

Carlisle rumbles darkly and it is all the encouragement that she needs to continue.

* * *

Ariel wanders out to her back porch to watch the sun descend against a clouded scarlet sky. The brisk night air bites at her skin through the night gown and the chiffon robe that thinly covers her skin. Though the cold does not bother her, a chill still runs down her spine as she wraps the robe tighter around herself.

“You’re going to catch a cold,” Carlisle’s voice softly mumbles into her ear as his arms drape around her waist, his lips pressed into the back of her neck.

She relaxes into him and shifts her head to give him more access. She can feel the way that he smiles against her skin. She relishes in it, grinning softly as she reminisces on their day together. That damn priest had started their day on such a sour note, but who would have imagined that it would have ended so pleasantly? That it would be the push that they needed to really solidify their bond as mates. 

Something stirs in her chest, her brows furrowing as a weight forms on her shoulders. Amenadiel would be  _ horrified _ at her actions, his opinion of their relationship had been on the fence as it was; but more so, to know that she did this while Carlisle still does not know her true identity; who she really is,  _ what _ she is. To start this sort of relationship on the basis of -  _ a lie. Fuck.  _ Even  _ Lucifer _ would be disappointed in her; though she supposes she never truly  _ lied _ outright, it may as well be the same thing.

Carlisle watches her closely, being this near to her face he can almost count the freckles kissed along her nose and cheeks. He relishes in how the sun itself is in her eyes, looking just off to the side. He pressed a light kiss to her temple and his grip on her did not waiver. 

“Troubled, dove?” Carlisle asks softly, his eyes looking at her with deep concern. 

He thinks back on their time together; lovely, relishing.  _ I want you Carlisle,  _ she had whispered sweetly, firmly. With no hesitation, not an ounce of regret.  _ Utterly and completely.  _ He can see age in the swirls of her eyes, but how many years does she have _? _ He yearns to know, if not what she is, if at least her life will span as long as his. That they can spend their existence together, forever in peace. 

He thinks of her confession; of her past relations. She didn’t drop any names or allude to anything specific, nothing other than the fact that in the past, there had been a passing fling with another vampire. The idea itself makes him want to growl, to find the one who had her before he did and make sure that they know that she is _his_ now. But he adores the fact that while intimacy on that level with a vampire was not a foriegn concept to her, that _romance_ with one; with _anyone_ _is._ That out of all the beings in existence - _she fell in love with him._

“A smidge,” Ariel admits softly, she turns around to face him, her eyes hooded as she refuses to meet his gaze. Her voice grows even softer as she continues. “I still haven’t quite told you, have I?”

She doesn’t need to clarify what she means for him to understand. He imagines that if he still breathed, that he would be holding his breath. That she would have stolen it away just as she has with his heart.

“No, I suppose you haven’t,” Carlisle admits, he reaches for her and she leans into his palm as he gently rubs his thumb over the spot just under her eye, “But you don’t have to.”

He presses a kiss to her forehead and her eyes drift close.

“I want to, I just don’t know how.”

Carlisle smiles down at her, not with disdain or sorrow, but with understanding. He imagines that if he had to tell her -  _ really _ tell her - that he was a vampire; if vampires were something that were more obscure, if she hadn’t alluded to knowing from the beginning - that it would be a very difficult thing to do. He knows that he wouldn’t have been able to find the right words either. 

“When you find out how, I will still be here,” Carlisle holds her tightly, “And I suppose you should know that I plan on being here even  _ after _ you find how to tell me.”

  
  


* * *

Carlisle is distraught about having to leave for his own home. It takes a lot of kisses and a round two of what they did in the forest before he finally takes his leave; Ariel finds herself missing him the moment that he speeds off into the treeline, wistfully sighing at the odd warmth in her chest that it creates, smiling to herself at the idea that she will see him again soon. 

The moment that Carlisle enters the Cullen residence, they can all  _ smell _ it. In Edward’s case, he doesn’t have to smell it to hear the thoughts  _ still _ running through Carlisle’s minds about the day’s events; he briefly mutters a congratulations to Carlisle, happy about his father-figure finding his mate, but retreats to his room immediately after as Emmett starts to let out loud wolf whistles. Alice  _ screeches  _ as she pounces on Carlisle immediately, gushing as her words start to blur together. 

“ _ Carlisle,  _ you did it! I am so happy for you two!!! I already have a few scrapbooks with wedding ideas, I know Ariel would prefer it outdoors, but would a beachside wedding at sunset be too  _ cliche?” _

Jasper sighs as he takes a step forward, immediately sensing the panic and anxiety flooding off of Carlisle in waves; Carlisle’s eyes are wide, despite the grin stretched on his face. 

“Love,” Jasper whispers calmly, placing his hands on Alice’s shoulders, “I don’t think they’ve discussed weddings yet.”

Alice immediately waves off Jasper’s concern, not quite oblivious to the panic setting in Carlisle’s eyes, but not concerned about it either. 

“They will eventually,” Alice’s nose twitches, “I just don’t see the point in waiting -”

“ _ Alice.’ _

Rosalie steps forward, her voice a firm warning. She doesn’t need to say anything else for Alice to get the message. She huffs and crosses her arms tightly against her chest with a thin-lipped frown that offsets her soft features. She settles down fast enough with Jasper rubbing comforting circles along her shoulders, leaning into him with a more relaxed smile. 

Carlisle’s heart warms at how immediate everyone’s reaction is; the idea that they’re all as excited and thrilled as he is. Even Rosalie gives him a soft smile and nod of approval. Emmett grins wildly as he drapes his arm over Carlisle’s shoulder, his approval more vocal.

“-Does this mean we have to wait until you’re married to call her Mom?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all smut will be its own separate story attached to this one; I want to keep the main story friendly to those uncomfortable with smut.
> 
> Father Briar will return, don't worry~


	22. A Mixed Drink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A friendly reminder that there is a playlist for Divine on Spotify under the name 'Divine - A Fanfiction Playlist' by DaniDear.  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4L5Tq5Bi5g3chRwlxefTyy?si=53WeGhzPReSQqtPwspbGEQ

The next few mornings, Ariel gets used to Carlisle showing up at dawn to fawn over her before they go to work. He even joins her on her back patio while she enjoys her tea in the morning - and her wine at night. He departs all too soon for either of their liking and before she can find the words to tell him about who she is - what she is. 

She wants to tell him. She wants to tell him before they can move even further, before they make plans for the far future, before Alice can make good on all the wedding dress photos that she keeps messaging. For someone’s sake, she still hasn’t even decided if she wants to move into the Cullen residence - officially or otherwise. She would still have to keep the house in case her family visits and she thrives on her privacy, her option for some peace and quiet. 

She also doubts the Cullen residence has enough room for her plants and she is _not_ abandoning the lives that depend on her care.

  
Despite the chaos that she’s been thrown into, the great fear of the unknown as they try to figure out a new normal and the persistence of Alice’s constant messages about what type of wedding she’d like, she decides that she wouldn’t change it for anything. In fact, she rather loves it. 

But this morning, Carlisle doesn’t join her on the porch as the hour of dawn quickly approaches. He had come over the night before as they examined the forecast for the day - _sunny._ Too sunny for him or his family to enjoy. He offered to bring her with them to their second home, just for the day.

She refused; through loving eyes and passionate kisses, she told him that she wanted to enjoy the sun while it lasted in Forks. She had plants to tend to afterall. With the promise that she would join him later in the day. 

_From Carlisle_

_Are you doing alright, darling?_

Ariel grins softly as she types out her message, a basket in her arm and a large sunhat shadowing her face as she takes advantage of the farmer’s market while they’re in town. The light sundress that she adorns billows around as she walks. 

_To Carlisle_

_I am perfectly alright darling, the farmer’s market is in town. The only way I could be safer - and happier - is if you were with me. I will join you in a few hours or so. Alice texted me where to go. Surely, you can survive a day?_

Ariel grins wildly as she reads over Carlisle's response - long, poetic, a bit dramatic, but loving. She is still grinning when she tucks her phone away to continue on the small shopping spree. Copper and Penny - her two beautiful birds, are happily content just sitting on her shoulder as she strolls. It gains a few looks from some, but to her delight, Forks has gotten more used to her presence in town and the more warming grins she sees, the less confining the buildings around her seem. 

The way that she seems to float through the aisles of vendors and fruit stands, glowing in the beaming sunlight turns more than a few heads. But she’s in too good of a mood to acknowledge the fact that she is being followed; opting to ignore the figure of Father Briar that seems to always been prominent in the corner of her vision. A human doesn’t pose an immediate threat, as creepy and unwanted as he may be. 

And even if he did, she doesn’t solve problems _that_ way anymore. She’s a nurse now; she’s a better person, a better being. She made an oath to never hurt a human being, even the ones that won’t seem to leave her alone. 

She keeps an eye on him, but doesn’t confront him straightforwardly until he makes a move. It takes time, but by the time that she reaches the fourth vendor, Father Briar steps out of the woodwork. 

“Here let me pay that for you,” Father Briar steps forward, a large grin on his face that doesn’t meet his eyes.

The vendor smiles, a charming look in their eyes that disappears when Ariel bluntly refuses the offer and pays the vendor herself, forcing Father Briar to pocket the money that he had readily available. The rejection makes him falter briefly; she can see it in the annoyance that flickers across his eyes. She can feel her feathers ruffle just at his presence and she turns her back to him immediately. 

She reigns in her energy - despite how much she wants the priest to know that she is serious, that she is _dangerous_ and she is starting to get _mad._ She can’t risk scaring the innocent farmers and the vendors. She is just starting to really enjoy Forks, she doesn’t want the town to be scared of her; nor does she want to scare off her own birds that walk across her shoulders tentatively.

“Ah - I didn’t mean any offense, sweetheart,” Father Briar recovers quickly, plastering that smile back on his face as Ariel starts to wander off, turning on her heels with the packet of seeds she parched tucked neatly in her basket.

Father Briar doesn’t get the hint, or rather if he does, he pointedly ignores it as he tramples after her. Ariel has her back turned to him as she walks, still ignoring his presence behind her as she reminds herself that she refuses to hurt humans anymore; though the more Father Briar pesters her, the more her patience begins to thin. Father Briar continues to talk, _‘why don’t you slow down, sweetheart?’ ‘come on, angel’ -_ his voice blurs together and becomes background noise to her.

She makes it to the sixth vendor stop before she turns on her heels to face him; the anger is noticeable in the furrow of her brows and the disdain in her eyes. He can see the flash of a fire in her eyes just enough that he takes a careful step away from her; she relishes in the hesitation in his eyes, the questioning, the _reminder._

“Excuse me, I have shopping to attend to that would go much smoother without your presence.”

“You don’t mean that, angel,” Father Briar laughs, but the sound is hollow, “We’re having a wonderful time together and I am learning so much about you.”

“Describe _wonderful,”_ Ariel huffs, annoyance seeping from her words, “For it to be wonderful, I thought both parties had to enjoy themselves, of which I am _definitely_ not. I am being _nice_ , _Father._ _Do not make me not be nice.”_

Her words are firm, a stern warning. A flash of _something_ is in Father Briar’s eyes - _ambition, determination._ A sign that he doesn’t plan on giving up on whatever it is that he is hoping to achieve here. It makes her want to _strangle him_ \- or _punch_ him. Just to get that snake of a smirk off his face. But she remembers Carlisle - _calm, collected._

She pinches the bridge of her nose and when she glances up, she spots Charlie from behind Father Briar’s figure; the priest’s response blurs away as she focuses on Charlie’s presence. Considering that the priest still has the smile on his face, she assumes that his reply wasn’t even worth listening to. She finds a sense of relief that Charlie meets her eyes immediately, his brows furrowed in concern as he notices the annoyance and frustration in her eyes. His gaze flickers toward Father Briar, who seems oblivious to Ariel’s uninterest. 

He mouths something, gesturing toward Father Bria. She gives a subtle nod; a gesture that is misread by Father Briar who lights up at her ‘engagement’ with him. Charlie is headed directly toward them with the fierce velocity that only a sheriff can manage. She takes a deep breath and steps away from Father Briar, handing the reins over to Charlie as he steps in between them. Charlie’s presence gathers a few passing glances, the locals recognizing Charlie’s ‘serious’ aura immediately.

“Is everything alright over here?”

Charlie’s eyes meet hers immediately, with a stern concern as he discretely moves his hand toward his hip. Father Briar’s eyes flicker to the badge that is clipped to Charlie’s belt and his reaction is immediate, his hands raising in a gesture of peace as he smiles charmingly. 

“Yes, officer, I was just having a conversation with a beautiful lady, I wasn’t aware that was against the law.”  
  


Charlie isn’t impressed nor fooled by the charming grin Father Briar has plastered on his face, nor does he like the way Father Briar’s eyes glance Ariel over. He notices the hard look in Ariel’s eyes and the tenseness of her fist; if she acts on it, he wouldn’t be opposed to turning a blind eye. But he takes a deep breath and looks at the priest sternly.

“I wasn’t asking you, _Father._ ” He turns to Ariel, “Is everything alright over here?”

Ariel takes a deep breath and manages a soft smile at the sheriff, “It would be much better if the heat didn’t bring so many pests.”

Her hint doesn’t go unnoticed and Charlie gives her a subtle nod. But by the time that he turns back around to face the priest, Father Briar is gone; with no sign of him in the immediate surrounding crowd, Charlie curses. Ariel relaxes the tension in her shoulders, putting a hand on Charlie’s shoulder with a soft smile.

“Thanks anyway, Charlie.”

Charlie’s eyes still flicker through the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of the priest. When he doesn’t, he finally releases a breath and looks toward Ariel. He gently pats the hand on his shoulder in acknowledgement, a small flush spreading across his cheeks as he mutters something incoherently. As she releases him, he digs through his pockets for his card.

“I know that you’re fully capable of taking care of yourself,” Charlie starts, “Carlisle is always talking about how much of a strong woman you are, but you can’t be too careful. If he gives you any more problems, give me a call.”

Ariel takes the card offered to her, knowing that given Father Briar is a human, if it could be solved with human means, it would save her (and by extension, the Cullens) a lot of grief. Her promise to Carlisle - to _herself_ \- to do better still rings in her mind despite the way an itch to take care of it all herself starts under her skin. She grins at Charlie thankfully, dipping her head in thanks as she tucks the card into her basket. 

* * *

The sun still shines, though it is more dim by the clouds starting to form again in the Forks’ sky, by the time that she gets home. Her arms full of goodies, she just has to give the door a nudge with her hip before it opens. Her birds flutter off happily into the nests that they’ve made in one of the potted plants. Ariel watches them fluff their feathers as they snuggle into their safe spot with warm eyes as she sets her basket on the counter. According to the clock, there is still quite a bit of time, plenty of time to take a moment to reflect before she meets Carlisle out of town. 

She sinks into one of the kitchen seats, stretching out toward one of the few thin beams of sunlight that still peak through the clouds and through her kitchen window. _I should have just left with Carlisle this morning,_ she bemoans. The sun be damned, she could have saved herself a lot of grief if she wasn’t so stubborn. She closes her eyes and breathes, relishing in the warmth beating on her skin, before she finally finds the strength to move. 

_To Carlisle_

_I’ll be leaving soon, won’t be much longer, love. I love you, darling._

She follows it up with a series of heart emojis and kissing faces. Her heart flutters as she reminds herself that this will all soon be a distant memory; that she will be with Carlisle again soon. His presence never fails to make her feel better after a shitty day. Her skin tingles as she thinks of all the ways that they could really end the day on a better note.

She grins wolfishly as she moves toward the small liquor cabinet. She sets the phone on the counter as she picks out one of the fruits she bought to snack on before she scans through the glass window of the cabinet. 

She almost reaches for the unopened bottle of merlot. The wine never quite being her favorite, but still stored for that _just in case_ moment. But her fingers drift away toward her more used bottle of chardonnay. The wine bottle stirs as she gets it out, only being half full after so many uses. But she relishes in the bit of comfort the familiar wine gives her. 

She doesn’t bother to pour herself a cup, the memories of Father Briar’s disturbance and the growing need to see Carlisle (just for her peace of mind) stirs. She pops it open easily as she finishes off her fruit before downing the rest of the bottle with ease. Her tolerance to alcohol leaves her unafraid of flying while on the influence.

But as she sets the empty bottle down on the counter, she pauses. The bottle just doesn’t look  _ right.  _ The counter seems to distort and get further away. Her eyes squint as something in her  _ turns.  _ Her breathing turns a bit more labored as the world around her starts to spin. The bottle turns blurry around the edges as she turns around her, her head spinning at the fast movement. She tries to set it on the counter again, but misses the counter.

The bottle shatters on the ground as she starts to reach for her phone, her body feeling heavy. She pauses, squinting as the world becomes harder to navigate. She reaches for the basket, digging through it for Charlie’s card as much as she can, though her movement is sloppy, hard to control. She ends up tipping the basket entirely as her knees give out and she hits the floor hard. 

Spots dance in her eyes as it gets harder and harder to even keep her eyes open, her eyelids becoming _so heavy._ Her arms struggle to hold herself up on the floor before they finally give out. She tries to fight it as much as she can as she hears the creak of her door and loud footsteps that make her ears hurt. 

“When Father Kinley said that the serum would work on even the best of angels, I wasn’t too convinced, but here you are.”

A familiar voice rings in her ears as she strains to hear, the words slurring together as she struggles to breath. The floor spins beneath her. She can make out the blurry form of feet in front of her. A finger presses under her chin and tilts her head up, she can’t fight it as she looks up at the blurry form of Father Briar; the ghost of a grin on his lips as he kneels down to look at her. 

_“Hey, sweetheart, time to get you out of here.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~whoops~


	23. In the Woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have wrote angst and torture for the Danny Phantom fandom for years, I promise I toned this down as much as I could so it wasn't horrifically graphic. But warning - the first half of this chapter does include some mild torture involving a knife.

The clearing in the woods is perfect; out of the way, far enough from town and any stray hiking trails. A rocky cliff side that will be perfect for what he has planned and the treeline surrounds them enough that not an ounce of the dawning sun shines through the canopy. 

It took him time to drag her half-limp body all the way out there, time he knew he didn’t have to spare. Not when he was unsure when her boyfriend would return - the boyfriend’s leave of absence was unexpected, but worked in his favor. He knew he would have time before the boyfriend would even be able to find them when the doctor realizes his precious girlfriend is missing, but he cannot take any chances. 

Thankfully, the serum works exactly the way that Father Kinley -  _ may he rest in peace-  _ said it would. Of course, the other priest expected to use his own sample of the serum to send the devil back where he belongs and he expected Briar to do the same should he fail, but honestly, Father Briar could care less that the devil was roaming the world. The devil took care of the rest of the sinners in the world and it was less sinners for him to worry about. 

Ariel doesn’t put up much of a fight as he tosses her toward the ground vicariously. He can’t imagine how  _ silly _ the world must feel and look to her; how foreign it must feel for such an angelic creature. He watches her for a moment, curiously, as her nails dig into the ground and she groggily tries to stand to her feet. She pathetically wobbles, uneasily, as she can’t find any strength. Her limbs are too heavy and too numb to hold her weight.

He presses his foot into her back. He doesn’t even have to use much strength or force for her to fall back to the ground. He keeps his foot there, pinning her, as he glances around the clearing. He’s pleased when he sees the preparations he made earlier are undisturbed. 

“I have to admit, you are definitely fighting this more than I thought you’d be able to,” Father Briar comments off-handedly. “It’s almost admirable, but there’s no use in trying to fight, sweetheart. I’ve searched way too long for an angel like you to let you get away so easily and I am not prepared for so much work to go to waste.  _ Weeks _ of careful watching, always from a far distance, of course. I couldn’t take any chances with that doctor hanging around, could I?”

Father Briar continues, “No idea what the hell he is so I couldn’t take any risks, but he just  _ would not go away, would he?  _ Well, now I have you all to myself,  _ beautiful.” _   
  


Her head throbs too much for her to even pray, her thoughts blurring together as the world spins around her. His words sound so distant and far away despite him being so close. His foot finally leaves its spot on her back and she takes in as much of a deep breath as she can. She tries to crawl away, but before she can even attempt it, Father Briar is back again. A vice hold on her wrist pulls her back, when she tries to screech, her tongue is too numb to make sound. 

She can vaguely make out the chains that wrap around her wrists before she’s pulled up against the cliffside, hanging limp against it. Her mind spins as she tries to make sense of what he plans to do, her back facing him makes it impossible to see his face.

“The Vatican said they’d never let me back in _ , can you believe that _ ?”

Father Briar searches through the kit he had tucked away, just for this moment, before he pulls out what he needs. The curved knife resembles a bird’s feather with its markings, odd symbols etched into the sides of it. He stands and saunters over to where Ariel hangs limply by her wrists against the cliff side. He waves the knife around as he continues to rant.

“Just because I actually believed in what Father Kinley was preaching? I wasn’t the only one, of course, that chose to follow him, but I was the only one  _ he chose to confine in _ . Split the serum he said would work on even the devil. A back up plan.”

Father Briar laughs bitterly, “Of course that was before  _ they kicked me out.  _ Now you’re going to be my way back in,  _ sweetheart.” _

She can feel his breath against her. He gently runs his hand down her cheek and despite being as groggy as she is, she pulls away.

“I hate to ruin such a beautiful angel, but your wings are the ticket I need to go back.”

She turns her head toward him, just enough to spit at his face. He winces, wiping it away with disdain. She spots the knife in hand and squints her eyes before recognition dawns on her. Her head feels so  _ foggy _ , but she  _ knows _ that knife, just as she knows what it will really take to kill her in a way that she won’t come back - and  _ that is not it. Azreal’s blade,  _ sure, but a  _ demon blade?  _ It will hurt, but not in any way that she won’t eventually come back from. She’s snuck out of Heaven before, she will do it again. 

“Show them to me,” Father Briar’s voice distorts around her. It gets harder to stay awake. “ _ Show me your wings.” _

The tip of the knife digs into her back. The serum numbs her, but she can still feel the warmth of blood flooding the spot between her shoulder blades. Even as it digs deeper, she  _ laughs -  _ the sound less melodic and more  _ dark.  _

“You are the stupidest human I have ever met.” Ariel’s voice is soft, her words slurred, but she cranes her neck just enough for him to see the burning flames in her eyes, “That blade won’t  _ kill me.  _ You don’t think I’ll  _ come back? _ You don’t think that my  _ family _ won’t come after you?”

The knife digs deeper, the anger and frustration burning in Father Briar’s eyes. His own anger blurs the fear that he feels seep into his veins; he reminds himself that none of this will matter if he can get her wings. She still continues to laugh at him, through her drugged state, bitterly and hauntingly. 

“You better hope that my brothers find you before I do when I come back,” Ariel’s voice distorts, even as the world darkens around her, the energy that pulses off of her starts to make him almost hesitate. She coughs as the world spins, but through her daze she continues. “ _ Or even Carlisle.” _

She continues to laugh, her body shaking as drugged and heavy as it feels, the world seems so far away now. 

“He’s going to rip you to shreds,” she bellows, her voice roaring as it distorts to the point that it is barely understandable, “Before I even get the chance to, how upsetting.”

She cranes her neck toward him again, her pupils dilated and dark, her eyes glowing with a warning, “Go ahead,  _ take my wing _ s. Kill me. Do whatever _ the hell  _ you want,  _ I dare you.” _

The darkness floods her vision and she falls limp as the last of the adrenaline in her system fails her, the world disappearing around her as she hears Father Briar curse her name, the knife digging into her as if he could really dig out her wings himself.

* * *

  
  


Carlisle has trouble settling down the moment that the coven leaves Forks for the day; an uneasy crawling under his skin, every bit of his instincts just scream at him to not leave her. He can still feel the ghost of her lips on his as she kisses him goodbye and the monster in his chest relishes in that sensation, as it claws at him to go back to her, despite the sunlight that could still be beaming down on the town. He could be subtle; he should have stayed with her, just stayed at her house where no one could have seen him. Just so that he could still smell her nearby, know that she is okay. 

He just can’t shake the feeling that something could hurt her; that something  _ will _ hurt her. As much as he argues with himself, trying to be logical that she can take care of herself. That she could take down any nomadic vampire that may have wandered into town while they were away, any potential threat. 

“She’ll be fine, Carlisle,” Rosalie snorts as she watches the way that Carlisle types out a hundred word text to his mate, “She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.”

“I know that,” Carlisle snaps before continuing more softly, “ _ I know that.  _ I just can’t shake the feeling that something will happen to her if I’m not there.”

“You’ve survived most of the day so far,” Edward mentions, but Carlisle just gives him a half-hearted glare.

Alice watches Carlisle with a soft grin, seeing the way that he feels as a more sure sign of his and Ariel’s commitment to each other. She knows the pull you feel when you’re away from your mate, the need to protect them, to be with them. She can’t imagine how Carlisle must feel being more than a town over, so far away from just her smell. Jasper places a hand on her waist to bring her closer to him, nuzzling his way into the crook of her neck. His fingers dig into her hip and she knows that Carlisle's emotions about being so far away must be affecting him too. 

“Let her enjoy the sun, she already said that she’ll join us later.” Alice piques up, grinning wildly, “Maybe she’ll come back with a sunburn and someone will have to ~ _ play doctor~?” _

Edward gags, his head throbbing as he raises a hand to try to silence Alice, “ _ Alice.  _ Please, he’s our  _ father _ .”

Emmett laughs, throwing his arm around Edward’s shoulders and hugging him too tightly for Edward to get away. “What Eddie is  _ trying _ to say, is that he is getting tired of seeing  _ daddy and mommy _ have sex every time  _ Dad _ comes home.”

The rest of the Coven laughs, though Rosalie lightly scolds Emmett for making fun of Edward’s discomfort. Carlisle is the only one silent, eyes still plastered on his phone as if Ariel will call him any second; he watches the seconds tick by and each minute that goes by makes his leg twitch. 

_ From Ariel _

_ I’ll be leaving soon, won’t be much longer, love. I love you, darling. _

Carlisle’s eyes light up at the message. Alice leans over to read it over his shoulder and grins. Carlisle matches the grin, watching his daughter light up as she rereads the text with joy. 

“See,” Alice’s voice twinkles with delight, “ I told you she’d be fine, she’ll be here before you-”

She stops suddenly, her eyes glossing over as a vision hits her like a hurricane, knocking whatever air would have been in her lungs out. Any remains of color in her face drains drastically as a look of horror spreads across her face; her expression makes Carlisle pause, looking at her with frantic concern. His eyes flicker between her and Edward, who mirrors her expression of acute horror.

“Alice?  _ Alice,  _ what did you see? What’s wrong?” 

Alice’s hands go to her mouth as her knees grow weak. Jasper is at her side immediately, catching her before she falls as she softly whispers, “ _ So much blood.” _

She can’t rid her mind of Ariel’s limp body hanging from chains with more blood than skin. A man dressed as a priest, a sadistic grin on his face. A knife digging into her body. Edward is the one to come to first, stepping forward with a pained expression. He places a shaky hand on Carlisle’s shoulder. Carlisle struggles to stay in place long enough for them to talk, everything screaming inside of him to just  _ run _ \- every bit of his instincts  _ screaming _ at him that whatever Alice saw, it involves  _ Ariel. _

“It’s - It’s  _ Ariel, _ ” Edward finally speaks up, confirming the worst fear that has taken over Carlisle, “-She - she’s in  _ danger.” _

Everything around him blurs as Carlisle’s head spins, the beast inside of him bellows at the fear that starts to flood through his body. Alice looks up at him with wide, pleading eyes, her voice a soft blur as Carlisle wastes no time in heading straight toward Ariel’s house.

_ “She looked dead,” _ Alice calls after him, “ _ Carlisle - you have to hurry.” _


	24. Shreds and Shallow Breaths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I have this tagged for a warning of graphic violence, but I am trying so hard to tone this down so more people are able to read it.

The rest of the coven chases after him, but Carlisle barks at them to go back home in case Ariel goes there. His heart is already shattering enough as it is just at the idea of Alice’s vision; he isn’t sure what he would do if the coven was there to witness it. He already feels bad enough that Alice and Edward had to see whatever horrors could -  _ or already has _ \- happened to his beloved. They don’t resist the suggestion too much, not when they see the dark shadows creasing through his eyes and hear the pained desperation in his voice that is threatening to break.

Carlisle immediately heads to Ariel’s own house to see if Alice’s vision has come to fruition. He barges through the back door, uncaring if it broke, bellowing her name out like thunder. The pigeons flew off the moment that they were able to and the fact that they do is the first sign that Ariel isn’t present. The second sign is the fact that he’s met with an empty household, he spots the shattered wine bottle on the floor - the glass remains everywhere they’re not supposed to be. The fruit basket that she had proudly sent him a picture of is tipped over and spilled across the counter and floor. 

But he can  _ smell  _ it immediately. He closes his eyes and he inhales it deeply and the monster that is crawling inside,  _ scratching to get out,  _ is just one little thread away from being loose. Ariel’s scent is the strongest - it covers her house like a delicate perfume and he relishes in how fresh it is, how strong.  _ She hasn’t been gone long.  _ But there is an undeniable scent of a  _ human. Sweat, blood, scabbing skin and like the dust of an old church. _

_ A scent he knows.  _ Alice’s words that had whistled through the wind as they ran, as she described what she could of her vision, spin through his mind -  _ priest, knife, bloody. Clearing in the woods. _

His eyes snap open, but there is no light reflecting in them. The dark abyss encasing them. The gleam glistening over his eyes is like a grim reaper’s scythe as it swings on its target.

_ Father Briar. _

His instincts guide him as he follows the scent of the damned priest.

* * *

He can hear Ariel’s laughter  _ \- of all thing _ s - far off in the distance and it spurs him on. He would cry if he could, just at the mere sound of her makes his heart yearn. Every bit of his being screaming for her to hold on just a moment longer - _ that he is here.  _ The tone of her voice sounds so enthralling and haunting; like a siren casting a spell before she tears the sailor it ensnares. He listens as her voice distorts into that of a wailing banshee, warning of death and bloodshed. An omen that he will fulfill, he vows it the moment that he realizes that the same clearing that they are in is the same one that had once been their own sacred ground. 

_ Father Briar has no right to even stand on the very dirt where Carlisle kissed her lips. _

Ariel’s body hangs against the cliff side that they once leaned on in warmth. Thick chains binding her wrists. The sundress she wears would have been beautiful on her, but the color is soaked, darkened red and torn. 

Any sound of her laughter is gone; she makes no notice of Carlisle’s presence nor does she so much as stir. The smell of blood is stronger than the scent of the pine trees around them, wafting through the air like a deadly sin. Blood pools at the ground where her feet hover limply as it spills out of the thick deepened gashes along her shoulders and between her shoulder blades. Father Briar stands beside her brandishing the knife, digging it into her skin as if he is a poor man searching for gold in the dirt.

Carlisle didn’t even know that she  _ could _ get hurt. The idea was so foreign and distant, as it is with the rest of his family. It is an idea that is just too horrible to fully grasp, but he was  _ foolish _ for ever thinking that anyone is incapable of being harmed; as much as he felt that she was in danger, it never fully registered that _ he may lose her.  _

_ Not until now.  _ The moment that he realizes the very real possibility of losing her, the horrific scene in front of him harshly dragging him into reality as the dreams he had for  _ her _ , for  _ them,  _ shatters like rose-tinted glass.

He blacks out; the world darkening to the point that it blurs around him as he jumps on the only thing that he wants to _destroy_. Every cell of his being is yelling at him to _kill._ _He took her away from me._

The moment Carlisle spots Father Briar digging the knife into her, whatever control he may have had breaks away. The monster  _ bellows;  _ the sound of his heart shattering echoes into the roar through the night; loud enough that even miles away, the rest of the Cullens  _ wince _ as the worst scenario starts to settle in their minds. 

When the color starts to return to his eyes, dimmed and not quite as bright as hunger stirs in him but still  _ yellow _ even as the blood of the remains of Father Briar are drenched into his clothes. His mind is foggy as control and sanity are slow to come back to him, but he still runs to her the moment that the priest is taken care of; the knife that the priest had used lays in the dirt. 

He is barely even able to turn to her as she breathes out harshly, blood gurgling in the back of her throat as she  _ screams _ . Whatever daze the priest had put her in -  _ he knows that the love of his life is too strong to be overcomed so easily _ \- has worn off as her eyes snap open harshly. 

He calls out to her, in such a heavy sense of relief that it is palpable in his voice, and concern for the wounds in her back as her arms flex. The chains around her wrists break, flying through the air at such a speed that he even has trouble dodging their remains as he runs toward her, prepared to catch her as she tumbles to the ground. 

But as his arms reach out toward her, his fingertips brush against soft feathers, but he doesn’t falter. His steps don’t stop as he still reaches out to catch her as he takes in the sight of long wings outstretching from the spaces of the wounds on her back. Seeming to glow under the dark influence of night, the light-colored feathers are speckled with an auburn gold and as breathtaking as it is, as much as he wants to step back to admire it, his first thought is _ how much they suit her.  _

Even though some of her blood stains the ends of her wings. 

Her wings drape against the ground as she collapses, but she can feel his arms tenderly and tentatively dip under her wings to wrap around her waist. He goes to his knees to gently guide her, supporting her weight as much as he can because as beautiful as her wings are, they are  _ heavy _ . Heavier than he expected. Every time a feather grazes against his skin, they feel warm and  _ heavenly. _

He knows with certainty what she is now; he can’t deny it, not when the evidence is draped over his arms as he helps support her. Not when looking at them fills some odd hollow spot in his heart, as if some primal part of his being  _ knows _ what they are. 

But it isn’t the time nor place.He tells himself he can get answers later - when she’s better, when she’s ready, when she  _ wants _ to tell him everything because she  _ will _ get the chance to if he has anything to say about it.

“Careful, love,” Carlisle mutters softly, “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

Her blood drips and mixes with her murderer along his clothes. Her eyes look at him - her eyes are glistening as she smiles, reaching out to cup his cheek. He wishes that she wouldn’t look at him like  _ that. _ As if she’s trying to memorize his face, as if it would be the last thing that she would ever see. As if she is trying to comfort him when  _ he _ should be comforting her. His chest hurts so much that he knows that vampires must have souls - that Edward  _ must _ be wrong - because his is  _ aching so much  _ just at the scent of her blood and the look in her eyes. 

“Takes more than a deranged idiot to make me worried.” 

Her words are a bit slurred. Her eyes are just a bit dimmer than he would like them to be as they glance around, taking in everything as she comes back to reality. He makes a comment about taking her to the hospital, but she waves him off nonchalantly and as much as he wants to disobey her, he knows that a hospital won’t do much for her. Not now.

Her eyes still scan in everything with a certainty that shouldn’t be possible with how much blood she’s already lost. He winces when her eyes drift toward what he did to Father Briar, but she doesn’t even flinch.

“I would’ve done it,” her voice is soft, “But I guess you beat me to it just like I thought you would.”

He lets out a soft laugh at the casualness of her statement, placing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. 

“Promise me that you won’t beat yourself over this,” Ariel whispers softly, her eyes glistening as she meets his gaze evenly, pleading with him. When he is finally able to whisper his promise, swearing to her that he won’t, no matter how it makes him turn on the inside knowing that he won’t be able to uphold it.

But it seems to be enough for her. She rests her head on his chest and her eyes drift close as she finally relaxes. He can’t help the astonished breathless sigh of awe that leaves his lips as the wings that draped over his arms vanish so smoothly, with no trace of them, leaving him cradling her body closer to his. He doesn’t question it, not much, not when he just wants to hold her and never let her go just like he promised her. 

He’s felt her body’s warmth so often that he knows it’s colder than it should be. Her chest still rises and falls with shallow breaths. 

“ _ Carlisle,” _ Ariel hums softly,  _ “Take me home.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference for Ariel's wings: Golden Sakar Falcon


	25. When Questions Arise

Carlisle listens to her, despite his first instinct to take her to the hospital there’s too many unknowns, too many questions that could arise. He places a tender kiss on her forehead and rushes home as fast and as carefully as he can while his hands press tightly against her back to slow the bleeding as much as he can, pressing her as close to his chest as he can as he focuses on the sound of her shallow breathing and the faint beat of her heart.

Alice sees them coming; with pained, desperation in her voice, she spreads the word immediately that Carlisle is on his way with Ariel, but that her condition doesn’t look good. Despite the relief that they all feel that there’s at least a  _ chance _ of Ariel being okay, that they won’t have to grieve yet, they have to work fast to prepare for Carlisle’s arrival with the badly injured Ariel.

It’s just enough of a warning for Jasper to disappear into the woods for a hunt to lower the risk that Ariel’s blood may inadvertently cause. Rosalie is the one who immediately goes to set up a place on the unused bed in another room and gets all the supplies she can find in Carlisle's office. Emmett moves the furniture in the room that’s chosen to make as much room as possible for Carlisle to work, but with little information about her injuries, there’s not much more that anyone of them can do. Neither Alice nor Edward mentions the blood-covered Carlisle in the vision nor the dark shadows that edged along the creases of his eyes.

When Carlisle arrives, his eyes are frantic and a heavy somber air fills the entire coven as they all take in the poor appearance of Ariel; how the woman who had fire in her eyes and enough wit to keep their father on his toes, looks so helpless now, fragile and small in Carlisle’s arms with most of the color drained from her skin. 

But they can all smell the blood that is drenched on Carlisle’s clothes, blood that doesn’t match Ariel’s. While the blood that has pooled at her wounds smells more like a forbidden fruit, with no desire to devour, the blood drenching Carlisle smells familiarly  _ human _ .

“The clearing to the west near the cliffs needs to be cleared of evidence,” Carlisle states evenly as Rosalie instructs him toward the prepared room.

“Get the knife.” Ariel’s voice is breathy and raspy as she struggles to lift her head up against Carlisle. Despite the confusion the request brings, Rosalie sees the hardened, almost desperate panicked look in Ariel’s eyes and nods solemnly.

Rosalie is quick to take Emmett with her as they do as instructed, asking no questions; they don’t have to, by the time that they get to the clearing, any questions will be answered and they know better than to voice anything to Carlisle, knowing the difficult choices that had to be made. Though Rosalie, of all of them, understands the most and Emmett is fierce about not even leaving an inch between them as he sticks close to her side. Alice and Edward, as strained as the former feels over the images that are still fresh in Carlisle’s mind, follow Carlisle to the prepped room. 

All Edward can see in his father’s mind is the remains of the scene that Rosalie will have to be cleaning up -  _ blood, the color red so deep it stains, flesh ripping apart.  _ It is messier and gorier than what happens to the vampires and it is so  _ foreign _ to Edward even  _ thinking _ of something like that - nevertheless the idea of  _ Carlisle _ doing something so violent and bloody - that it makes a rock settle at the bottom of his gut as he tries to come to terms with the the memory. 

Nothing else about what happened is clear to him as all Carlisle can think of, even now, is the damned priest. Some flashes come through - of what exactly happened to Ariel that made Carlisle snap - and when those images come through, Edward can understand his father’s reaction more. Though nothing else of what occurred is clear, least of all whatever motive a human would have for doing something like this.

Alice’s eyes are gleaming with worry and concern as she helps Carlisle lay Ariel on her stomach, the only way that they’ll be able to properly look and tend to the wounds on her back. Ariel barely flinches as she is stretched out comfortably on the bed, straining to move her arms in a more comfortable position.

Every single movement, every decision that Carlisle makes is quick but careful as his mind shifts into the focused fog of a doctor. His hands don’t waiver as he tears away the back of her dress as much as he can to better see the wounds. Alice is quick to immediately hand him over each tool that he requires, watching everything closely as she desperately wishes that she would get at least  _ some _ vision to know how this would all turn out, but the longer that she goes without some reassurance or answer, the more that her hope drops to her gut.

Edward can’t watch, as much as he wants to help the both of them. Instead, his help is better instructed to keep careful watch over her breathing. At Carlisle’s strict instruction, Edward sits in the corner and listens to the still overwhelming presence of Ariel’s mind. He can’t bear the smell of her blood as much as the others are able to; while it does not induce the same type of hunger, it feels too  _ wrong _ to smell. He closes his eyes as he sits in the corner, focusing his energy on Ariel as he reminds himself that she needs to stay alive. At the very least, for Carlisle.

Her mind is still like listening to a million radio stations at once, all in different languages, overlapping each other. A computer with more wires than others, too complex for him to understand. Still illegible, but no different than what her mind was before and even as her consciousness fades in and out as Carlisle disinfects and then stitches the most drastic of her wounds, the noise of her mind is still present.  _ Alive. _

_ Edward.  _ Edward’s eyes snap open immediately at the sound of a familiar voice ringing in his mind. His gaze goes to Ariel. Carlisle has already started bandaging the more severe wounds before moving onto the smaller ones, seemingly unaware that Ariel is conscious again. Her eyes are tired, with barely any light left in them, but she looks at Edward directly. 

_ Tell your father it isn’t his fault,  _ Ariel’s voice sounds as tired and drained as she looks.  _ Your father is going to blame himself when this doesn’t work. I don’t know if I’ll get the chance to tell him, but make sure he knows that I will be back as soon as I can. _

She’s drifting out of consciousness before he can vocally ask her any questions or get any answers, but the somber tone of her voice still rings clearly as her mind still buzzes familiarly. He tucks what she said into the back of his mind, swearing to uphold it, even if he doesn’t fully understand what she means; and that he doesn’t necessarily  _ want  _ to know what it means, not liking its implications. 

By the time that Carlisle is done, he is hesitant to leave her side. Though alive by a thread, Ariel’s lack of consciousness doesn’t settle well with him, especially when there are so many unknown variables in how to treat her and if there is anything he may be missing and have no idea of. He grabs her hand and grips it as tightly as he can, an unspoken promise, but her hand falls limply back to her side when he lets go. The look in Carlisle’s eyes breaks their hearts. Edward keeps Ariel’s words in his mind, but doesn’t voice them yet. He tells himself that as long as she is alive, she has a chance to tell Carlisle herself before he’s forced to. 

Alice and Edward have to work together to slowly get Carlisle to leave the room to let her rest. He fights it at first, softly and gently, before he finally gives in as he realizes that someone will have to contact her family to let them know her condition. He presses a kiss to her forehead, but his feet feel heavy with every step that he takes away from her. 

* * *

The rest of his children are back home and waiting patiently in the living room for any update. None of them question how Rosalie or Emmett cleaned whatever scene that left Carlisle so drenched in blood, and neither of them give any unprompted answers; the tense energy is already too thick to have what happened discussed too openly, especially when all the wounds are still fresh in their minds and not when they can still smell Ariel’s blood upstairs.

Alice is the one to whisper the condition that Ariel is in. Her answer is heard by everyone easily and while it takes some weight off their shoulders that she is still (technically) alive, they know that until she is fully healed and up again, that none of them will be getting any peace as a somber energy fills the room. The mood only turns more dower as Carlisle lingers in the room like a hollow shadow, drenched with now-dried blood, dazed and empty. Unable to process now that he has a chance to, his mind still spinning with all the things that he needs to do in order to make sure that everyone is safe - that  _ she _ is safe.

Jasper tries his best to calm everyone down, but Alice just gives him a sad, soft smile, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips as he realizes that as hard as he may try, some situations are just too serious to ease.

Carlisle’s mind is full of frantic thoughts on how he is supposed to explain this situation to Ariel’s family. How does he explain something like this? What will their reaction be? Will telling them put her or his family in danger? Will they be able to help her more than he already has? He holds the phone so tightly that he almost crushes it as he shifts through the contact list, hovering just above Dr. Linda’s name; he knows that she has to know what Ariel is, given that she knows the truth about them -  _ and he really needs to talk to Ariel more about that when she is better.  _

  
But Dr. Linda is the only one that he has a number for and the chance that they can help her is greater than the chance that they will hurt her, and so it is a chance that he  _ has _ to take. For  _ her _ sake.

“Carlisle,” Rosalie is the first to speak, making him pause before he presses call, “Before you make the call, there’s something that you need to know.”

Carlisle’s mind is already so full of information to process, but what is one pebble to an already full bucket? So he pauses, he listens. He watches. Emmett glances at Rosalie nervously as she grabs Emmett’s wrist to show his open palm to the doctor. Where there is normally pristine marbled skin, there is a thin white crack along Emmett’s palm. Carlisle’s eyes flicker to it with concern.

“What happened,” Carlisle asks softly, his eyes tired and worried. 

Rosalie lets go of Emmett’s wrist, ignoring his whines that she held it too tightly, and points toward the knife that is laying on the table; Carlisle tenses as he recognizes the knife that Father Briar used, images of what happened still at the forefront of his mind. But at the implication of what Rosalie is saying, Carlisle takes one step closer to look at it more closely, as much as it pains him to still see just small remains of Ariel’s blood on the edge and the dried blood on the handle. He doesn’t recognize the markings on it, only briefly curiously reminiscing on how the design reminds him of a feather.

_ That  _ thought makes Edward’s eyes snap toward him, frantic and full of questions as Carlisle thinks of soft gold-freckled feathers stretching out from Ariel draped over his arms. Carlisle just gives him a solid look, explaining that he will explain it later - when he himself has the answers. But it does little to calm Edward as he retreats toward his room, to give his father space and to think over the implications of what Ariel could be. The look in Edward’s eyes - the look of absolute sorrowful acceptance - kills Carlisle, but he has other things he needs to focus on at the moment. 

Carlisle finally speaks up, “Put the knife in my office -  _ carefully.  _ Keep an eye on it, the idea of a weapon being able to injure us is one thing, but what it was used to do on Ariel is  _ another -  _ we can discuss it later.”

Rosalie’s lips are tight, objection on the tip of her tongue before she listens to reason, taking the knife away with Emmett - whose hand she has to constantly whack away as he continues to reach for it carelessly as they depart. Jasper watches them all worried and tense, his eyes flickering to the hungry daze still present in Carlisle’s eyes. Alice notices the look and she tentatively steps forward, gently taking the phone away from Carlisle.

“Go hunt first, Carlisle. Then you can call.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go eat a snickers Carlisle, you're not you when you're hungry.   
> Memes aside - almost there >.>


	26. Family

Linda can’t shake the uneasy feeling itching under her skin that  _ something _ is wrong; it lingers with her throughout the whole day. She already checked in on Chloe - and Lucifer. Double checked with Amenadiel, who reassured her that everything is okay, though even he didn’t seem fully convinced. The more that she asked him, the more it seemed like Amenadiel shared her worries, despite trying to calm her down. In the end, it just made her worry more.

She only just started to put those worries away, tucked them deep enough as she went step by step on rationalizing the feeling before she went to bed, if anything to try to calm herself enough to sleep. 

Ariel was with Carlisle - she texted early in the day on how thrilled she was about going to the farmer’s market, sent her pictures of fruit and vendors even. Considering it was a newer, and passionate, relationship, not hearing from her after she said that she would be joining up with him soon is normal - they’re probably too  _ busy _ to stay in touch at the moment. Amenadiel is with her - he’s fine - so is Charlie, who is currently asleep in his bedroom. Chloe and Lucifer already updated her multiple times that they’re fine, though Linda declined Chloe’s offer of coming over to help. 

But then her phone went off and she stared at the screen with her heart in her throat, every inch of her just screaming that  _ something is wrong - this is it. _

_ Dr. Carlisle Cullen is calling. _

And all those worries suddenly came back with a vengeance as she took the phone with shaking hands.

_ “-Dr. Linda, you don’t know me, but I’m Alice, Carlisle’s daughter.” _

Despite the higher pitched, melodic tone of voice, it does little to calm Linda. As much as she may be trying to hide it, Linda can hear the frantic, nervous, and tense undertone as she begins relaying a message that made all of her worries  _ real. _

_ “Ariel is hurt - very badly.” _

Alice’s voice is heavy and she can tell that she is struggling to find the right words. She can hear something in the background - it sounds like Ariel’s voice, but it is too faint for her to tell what she is saying. 

_ “Carlisle has done what he can, but there is a possibility that her brothers may be able to do more for her than what he is able to. Our house is a mile to the north of Ariel’s off the main road, please - hurry.” _

Alice’s call is cut off suddenly as she ushers a brief thank you before no doubt, tending to Ariel. All Linda can do is stare back at her phone blankly, her mind processing the information as Amenadiel walks into the kitchen with a warm smile, arms outstretched to hold her before he stops short as she looks at him with frantic eyes. 

“-Linda, what’s wrong,” his voice is firm and full of concern as Linda’s eyes start building up with tears. 

“-Ariel -  _ Ariel’s hurt.” _

* * *

Carlisle never leaves Ariel’s side the moment that he gets finished hunting, replacing Alice who waited in his stead. He has to admit that he is not  _ thrilled _ that Alice went behind his back to call Linda, but knowing Alice’s intentions, it was hard to stay upset at her for it. He understands that Alice is simply trying her best to help him as much as she can; and having fed, he can understand why she was pushing for him to at least eat something before continuing. His mind feels clearer - calmer, more at ease - after indulging in his instincts to eat. It helps calm that beast that was still clawing at him, at least now he is starting to feel at least a bit more normal. A bit more together and ready to face the challenges ahead. 

He only changes his blood stained clothes since he has to grab something for Ariel to wear after having torn her dress to tend to her wounds. He knows that whenever her brothers arrive, that at least having cleaner clothes would make him look like damning. But he changes Ariel first before himself, slowly tearing away at the rest of her dress. 

  
She stirs when he changes her, waking slowly and still dazed, but she tries to help him as much as she can, as stunted as her movements are. She is at least able to stand when needed as she slips on one of the larger versions of Carlisle’s button-up shirts. It’s not a hospital gown, which would be easier to tend to her wounds, but it is the best that he can do while still making sure she is covered and comfortable with the shirt being put on backwards so that he could undo the buttons to tend to her injuries as needed and she mutters a thank you before she slips back into the bed, dazed and slightly confused.

Carlisle holds Ariel’s hand tight, placing soft kisses to her knuckles as he listens to the sounds of her shallow breathing. Her eyes close quickly as she slips into an unconscious state. She would look almost peaceful if not for the bandages still peaked out from the edges of the collar. He’s not sure if she can hear him, but he continues to whisper words of encouragement -  _ stay with me, darling, you can do it. _

Carlisle doesn’t dare move until he hears the sounds of  _ something _ coming at the house - not quite running, it lacks the solid footsteps of feet on the ground, more like a rushed wind before he finally hears something land outside of their house. As if a large bird has come to visit them; Ariel’s wings briefly flash in his mind and he almost snorts at the unintended joke should her brothers have actually  _ flown _ in.

He doesn’t even need to check, he  _ knows _ who it is. He knew that if Ariel’s speed was anything to go by and Amenadiel’s previously known protectiveness of her, that they would make their presence known quickly after receiving the call; or at the very least, Carlisle  _ hoped  _ so. 

He presses a soft kiss to Ariel’s forehead, whispering to her that he will be back before he disappears into the living room hoping to ease whatever chaos is about to come their way.

  
  


* * *

The  _ chaos  _ does come. It gives no warning and it comes too fast to properly react. 

In a swift motion, before anyone can even answer the door, it is knocked back on its hinges as it flies to the wall as a towering and imposed figure enters. His large frame and noticed muscled figure makes them all nervous as Emmett immediately lights up at the potential of either fighting or sparring with someone who may be able to keep him on his toes in terms of strength. But the man doesn’t look in the mood of any sort of games nor any taunting - Edward hears Emmett’s thoughts and very quickly puts a hand out to signal for him not to say  _ a word _ . Jasper can feel the intense anger radiating off the visitors; it hits him hard enough that his nostrils flare as he takes a step back as Alice tries to reign him in. The rest of the family is tense, ready to jump in at a moment’s notice, as they wait for any signal from Carlisle.

The man’s brows are furrowed, creating deep creases in his face. His eyes look dangerous, hooded and serious with a locked jaw. He looks at them each slowly, sizing each one of them up as he counts the equally unfamiliar faces before his eyes finally meet Carlisle’s. The man’s face is only familiar to Carlisle, who greets him calmly with a sad smile.

“ _ Amenadiel _ and,” Carlisle’s voice is soft, unapposing and nonthreatening as he tries to raise his hands in a sign of peace, “ - I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met? You must be Ariel’s other brother.”

Carlisle peeks around Amenadiel as another man saunters in, more casually but off putting. He looks less serious than his (assumed) brother, but just as intimidating with haunting eyes that seem to look through each one of them. Like Amenadiel, he sizes each one of them up with a cocky smirk, hands tucked into the pockets of his expensive trousers. He doesn’t do anything to stop Amenadiel from lunging toward Carlisle before introductions are made; instead he steps between the rest of the family who all immediately react the moment that Carlisle is pinned to the wall by his neck. 

“ _ What did you do to my little sister,” _ Amenadiel’s voice is deep, wavering with emotion and as angry as he is, Carlisle can see the genuine worry deep in his eyes, "You _monster."_

He doesn’t fight Amenadiel. He simply glances toward the rest of the coven, who are all ready to start a fight on his behalf and Ariel’s other brother (he assumes it’s the younger, club owner one she mentions so often - he certainly is dressed like he just came from a club). Ariel’s younger brother seems just as ready to fight, edging them on with a wicked gleam in his eyes and unfaltering grin, his arms open as if daring them to even try to fight. Carlisle gives the coven a signal to stand down, nodding as much as he can with a hand gripped around his throat so tight that he can feel his skin starting to splinter. 

Hesitantly, they listen, taking a step back and watching the scene uneasily. Ariel’s younger brother watches them with mild annoyance and disappointment before glancing over toward Amenadiel and Carlisle. Unlike Amenadiel, the other brother looks at Carlisle very closely - as if he can see something that Amenadiel can’t. He hums thoughtfully as he examines the guilt, the shame, and the understanding in Carlisle’s eyes and it seems like a question is on the tip of his tongue before a startling voice cuts through the air like a vice. 

_ “AMENADIEL. Let him go.” _

She doesn’t scream it, she doesn’t have the energy to. But Ariel’s voice still booms throughout the room with a startling roar, with an unexpected power behind it that seems to shake all the anger out of the air as a gust of wind floods the room as her wings unfurl. Ariel leans against the doorframe as much as she can, hunched over with wheezing breaths, looking just as tired as before as her arms wrap around her midsection. Dark circles have settled just between under her eyes and the light sunkenness of her cheeks; they create a stark contrast against her still too-pale and colorless skin.She still struggles to stand, but her wings still stretch out from the doorway to where Amenadiel stands in the living room.

Carlisle blinks at seeing the presence of the feathers again - white and gold speckled that are just as enchanting as when he first saw them are now pressed in between him and her brother with the tip of her wings grazing Amenadiel’s cheek just hard enough to light cut into his skin while her other wing stretches in between her other brother and the rest of the coven as a way to seperate them. Carlisle barely processes the presence of her wings before his eyes snap toward her with concern - and hope - and then,  _ and only then _ \- does he start to try to break free from Amenadiel, just to get to her.

The Cullens don’t say a word - too stunned as they blink in shock, taking an unexpected step back at the sudden wings that part them from the other man. Edward’s mind  _ swirls _ with assumptions and ideas that may or may not be true as his eyes become stressed. Rosalie mutters that  _ they would have won _ as she crosses her arms tightly against her chest, getting over the sudden reveal faster than the rest of her family. Emmett only beams at the sight of wings, his eyes lighting up with excitement - questions about how fast she can fly already in his throat before Rosalie nudges him to calm down. Alice reacts more positively than her mate, who looks worried about the change of the situation. She grins wildly as her mind immediately thinks of the bright light always present around Ariel and how now - if what she is thinking is correct- that it  _ makes sense.  _ She practically buzzes with excitement and joy.

Amenadiel does as Ariel asked, his eyes narrowing at the presence of her wings before he drops Carlisle carelessly. The other brother pouts and mutters about wanting to punish  _ someone _ , but Carlisle just runs toward her as her wings disappear as soon as they appeared. She collapses the moment that he gets to her, but he catches her before she reaches the ground. Carlisle doesn’t acknowledge the presence of anyone else in the room, focusing simply on checking Ariel over and whispering soft reassurances as he scoops her up in his arms. She only protests lightly when he settles her down on the couch.

“I told you that he wouldn’t have done anything to her,” Carlisle catches the other brother whispers to Amenadiel as he scoffs, “Look at the way at them and tell me you don’t see _ it.” _

Amenadiel still doesn’t seem as convinced, watching carefully as Carlisle puts Ariel onto the couch. His arms are folded against his chest with his shoulders pressed back. The other man scoffs, muttering about how he’ll prove it then. Carlisle glances up to see him sauntering over with a same cocky grin, his eyes staring at him intently. 

“What is that you ~ _ desire~, Dr. Cullen?” _

The question is odd - out of the blue, off putting, but simple. Harmless. Yet it rings in Carlisle’s ears and reaches down into his throat, as the man’s voice is pulling the answer out from somewhere deep in Carlisle’s soul. Carlisle fights it for a moment - he knows this feeling, he’s felt things similar when he’s talked with Aro - something that catches the man’s attention as well as Ariel’s. She glances at him with a cocked, questioning brow and an interested smile. It’s that smile that makes Carlisle give in as he answers the question.

“I just want her to be okay.  _ Alive. Happy. Loved. _ ” Carlisle’s voice is soft, the sincere deep honesty that drips from each word that falls from his lips firmly, “ _ Always.” _

His answer seems to pacify the man, who grins wildly as he takes a step back and looks back at Amenadiel as if to say  _ I told you so.  _ Amenadiel sighs deeply as he finally relaxes his stance, begrudgingly accepting the answer. The man claps his hands, pleased, before the grin on his face turns into something more vicious as he looks over each of the coven members and his sister’s condition.

“ _ Good - _ now that that’s out of the way -  _ who did this and where can I find them?” _

There’s a dangerous gleam in his eyes; a predatory look of unfaltering confidence and vengeance, his voice as sharp as a dagger. The rest of the coven share uneasy glances, unsure if they should disclose what happened, but it is Carlisle who meets her brother’s gaze evenly. Ariel reaches out and though her grasp on Carlisle’s hand is weak, it is still present and gives him the confidence he needs to continue.

“ _ He’s dead. _ ” Carlisle states firmly. “I found him digging into Ariel’s back with a knife and I took care of it,  _ myself _ .”

The man seems pleased with the answer, nodding along with understanding as Amenadiel takes a step forward with concern. 

“Digging into her back,” Amenadiel questions and he looks toward Ariel in hopes that she can give him the answers that they need. His eyes glimmer with concern as he finally takes in just how bad her current state is - to the loss of color in her sunken cheeks, the wheezing underlying her breathing and the bandages that peek out from what he assumes is one of Carlisle’s shirts. 

Ariel simply solemnly nods, “Father Briar. He worked with Kinley. I guess Kinley had more of that stuff than we thought, I think Briar snuck it into my wine when I was at the market.”

Her voice is soft and weak. It takes a lot out of her to say so much at once so fast, but she continues after taking a small break to catch her breath. Carlisle continues to watch her with both concern and growing confusion as she explains the situation; but he bites his tongue, withholding his questions. His questions can get answered later -  _ when  _ she is better.

“I hit the ground, woke up in the forest and he wouldn’t stop  _ babbling _ about taking my wings off himself so he could get his spot back at the Vatican.”

She rolls her eyes, but her expression shifts when Carlisle squeezes her hand and she sees the uneasy worry in his eyes. She gives him a soft smile as her brothers take in the information quickly, with the youngest of them being the first to comment.

“Kinley,” he mutters thoughtfully, “I thought that stupid bloke didn’t have any followers left - what did he use? Not one of Maze’s knives, I hope.”

Ariel shook her head negatively, not recognizing the blade as one of Mazikeens. Her answer makes both of her brothers frown; at least if it was one of Maze’s, they may have had a chance at getting an explanation on who gave the knife to Briar (or who it was stolen from). With it not, there are a lot of questions that arise (some more important than others), about where the knife really came from and how Briar got a hold of it.

Ariel leans back, closing her eyes as she takes in a deep breath as she thinks about the knife before she shoots up from the couch with wide eyes. She mutters about the knife as she realizes that she isn’t sure if they were able to retrieve it or not, a foggy confusion in her voice. Carlisle calms her immediately, ushering her back down as he explains that the knife has been placed in his office for safe keeping, but that he can show them the item  _ after _ things have calmed down. 

“Well I suppose that’s it then,” the overly confident man clasps his hands together, “Our dear sister is alive, I’m sure that this Briar bloke is being tortured eternally in Hell, we got the knife. I can always pop down for a quick spell to  _ visit _ the dear old priest for a  _ chat.  _ Only leaves one thing.”

The man grins as he bows elegantly toward the Cullens, “I never even introduced myself.  _ Lucifer, Lucifer Morningstar.” _

Ariel winces when she sees the varying instant reactions from the Cullens - ranging from skepticism to realizations. While the deep setted concern in Edward’s eyes catches her attention the most - noting the guilt in them - her eyes glance toward Carlisle. Carlisle doesn’t have a vivid reaction unlike the rest of his family. He just seems to accept the information through tired eyes, his grip on Ariel’s hand never falters. Instead, his thumb continues to rub circles on the back of her hand as he hums thoughtfully.

He thinks about what he knows, his past knowledge as a priest; he thinks about the research he’s dug into while trying to figure her out. He couldn’t make too many connections - too many leaps of faith without proof - but now as he looks back on all that he knows, he realizes that he’s accepted that she would be an angel farther back than he realizes. That somewhere deep down, he knew, but had let his logic try to reason everything away. It is the only thing that suits her though; nothing else could quite capture the radiance she brings him and the light in her eyes as well. 

He knew that if she were an angel - the implications it brings for him, his family, and the truth about things that he supposes they should have never known in life - that it would mean, by extension, that her brothers would be as well. The devil is a shocking surprise, but it is one that passes quickly. He remembers his time as a priest - he remembers the stories of Lucifer’s fall and the past he had as an angel. That would still make him one of Ariel’s siblings. 

He may not know him or his intentions, both of which to a degree worry him. But all of Ariel’s praise toward her younger brother comes back to the front of his mind and he settles down into his spot beside her. He cannot trust Lucifer - not fully, not immediately - but he does trust Ariel.

“The devil,” Carlisle mutters softly, “Yes, I suppose that would make sense, wouldn’t it? I suspect that the two of you really  _ are _ angels then?”

Carlisle glances toward Ariel. The way that she can’t seem to look him in the eyes makes his heart tighten in his chest as a dark flush of shame spreads across her cheeks. Amenadiel sighs deeply as Edward looks between his father (who is seemingly accepting it rather well) toward Lucifer and then toward Ariel, his mind spinning not only with his own questions, but the screaming questions from his siblings as well; their thoughts being so loud that they blend in with his own. Rosalie seems more skeptical, eying the situation as it plays out while Emmett looks  _ thrilled _ as he mutters about  _ almost throwing down with the real devil.  _ Jasper is understandably the most tense - his eyes wide with a brief sense of panic as he thinks of his regret for his part, not just for the lives he took, but for being on the wrong side of the war. Alice isn’t much better off, though still thrilled at the idea of Ariel being an angel, she glances toward Lucifer with caution and sticks close to Jasper’s side as he wraps a tight arm around her.

“ _ The Devil,” _ Edward takes a tentative step forward, his face creased with deep worry as he dares to be the first of his siblings to speak - to question it. As skeptic as he wants to be about it, he can see the truth in Lucifer’s eyes. When he tries to poke through Lucifer’s mind - it’s not any easier than it was to look through Ariel’s.

Lucifer’s grin grows, though his brows furrow in confusion,“Of course, who else would I be?” 

He turns on his heels sharply toward Ariel, almost accusingly and hurt, “ _ Ariel,  _ did you really not tell them anything?”

His tone is only mildly accusing as the deep flush settling on Ariel’s cheeks makes her answer obvious, “I - I never got around to it, no.”

“Out of all the ways for this to come out,” Amenadiel mutters, shaking his head in disappointment. “What am I doing to do with you?”


End file.
